


right there in the details | camren (au)

by blake0tyler



Category: Fifth Harmony (Band)
Genre: Drama & Romance, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-09-08 23:49:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 120,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8868019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blake0tyler/pseuds/blake0tyler
Summary: "You are nothing but a game to me." | Camren AU
the devil’s right there, right there in the detailsand you don’t want to hurt yourself, hurt yourself- looking too closely – fink





	1. 0

Your back collides with the wall of the locker room showers as she presses herself against you, kissing you hard. Everything is heat and water and her mouth on yours and the touch of her hands all over you. Her fingers disappear between your legs, and it’s almost too much – you gasp for air and moan her name into her skin, over and over. _Lauren_. Her breath hitches in her throat as you suck hard on her collarbone and you can’t help but do it again, relishing in the sound she makes. You want to leave your mark all over her. Her hand is still between your legs, hovering over your skin, teasing you. _Lauren_. You say it, louder now, and she knows exactly what you want, how much you want it. Her eyes lock into yours, the green hard and intense. You hold her gaze, cupping her face between your hands and then pull her against you, kissing her again. In one swift movement she pushes two fingers inside of you and you can’t suppress your scream. Your mind is telling you to stop, because this is crazy, this is absolutely insane, but you can’t, you can’t stop running your hands over her breasts and up her legs, placing hot kisses all over her neck and her stomach and her lips and her nipples. As your tongue flicks against her earlobe, she loses her focus for one moment and you quickly slide down to your knees, pulling her onto you until your tongue finds its way between her legs and the way she swears when you taste her – _Fuck, Camila_ – makes you never want to stop.

This is far more intense than any game you’ve ever played


	2. 1

I.

The first time you see her, she scores a goal from the far end of the field – making the ball soar through the air, right past you, into the left corner of the net – as if it’s nothing.

The uneasy feeling hits you as soon as you catch the puzzled look on Dinah’s face, as she wonders who the hell just managed to get past her. You follow her gaze down the line and there she is – long, dark hair; lean, athletic body; standing next to your field hockey coach James Martin, casually leaning on her stick with a frown on her face as if she didn’t just score a goal from the furthest distance away. You see her mention something to Martin, making a gesture with her hand to indicate the way the ball moved. He nods in agreement, trying to stay serious as she assesses her own shot, but clearly barely able to contain his happiness.

“Who is that?” Ally says, running up next to you.   

“Did _she_ just make that goal?” Normani cuts in. “That was freaking incredible!”

Something tightens in your chest. A hot, shaky feeling seems to press in on your ribcage. You can feel your eyes narrow as you look her over once again – her pale skin, well-fitted jersey and long legs. You bite your lip hard, without even realizing it.

Martin blows his whistle. “Ladies, get over here! I’ve got an announcement to make.”

The team hurries forward, gathering around him, eager to see what this is about, eyeing the new girl with excited interest. You make a point of jogging slowly, arriving last, not really wanting to show off just how impressed you are with that shot she took on goal.

Coach Martin is beaming.

“Ladies,” he says with a grin, “I’d like to introduce you to our newest teammate. This is Lauren Jauregui.” The girl smiles as Martin makes a gesture in your direction. “Lauren, this is Camila. She’s our team captain.”

You make your way forward between the girls until you are standing right in front of her. Your gaze locks into hers for a second – and you realize with a shock that she’s got the most intense green eyes you’ve ever seen – before you extend your hand, trying to ignore the strange tension in your stomach. You don’t really feel like it for some reason, but Coach clearly wants you to make an effort, so you try to give her a smile.

“Hi, I’m Camila.”

She takes your hand and holds on to it for a second longer than necessary. “Lauren.” Her voice is a little low and husky. It sends a strange shiver down your spine. “I’ve heard a lot of things about you.”

“Really?” You challenge her stare. “I haven’t heard a single thing about you.”

It’s a little mean – you can practically feel Ally rolling her eyes at you from behind your back – but you’ve already said it and you can’t take it back. You expect her to give you a nervous laugh or quickly look away. You know exactly what kind of effect you can have on girls if you want to. But Lauren doesn’t hesitate for even one second before countering, “Not yet, you haven’t.”

Someone behind you – Dinah probably – laughs a little. Anger flares up in your chest at the way Lauren slowly kinks her left eyebrow at you, at the ease with which she seems to stand her ground. But before you can say anything, Martin interrupts, placing a hand on Lauren’s shoulder.

“Lauren just transferred here from the University of Miami. She’s one of the most talented field hockey players of the country, so we are all very lucky to have her.” He looks around. “I expect you girls to try your best to make her feel at home right away. Show her that UCLA spirit, all right? Lauren, remind me, what position do you play again?”

“Center forward,” she says and it’s as though someone slams a hockey stick into your stomach.  

“Great!” Martin exclaims, once again gesturing to you. “Camila is our center forward at the moment!” He gives you a smile and jokingly says, “I guess you’ve got some competition, Camila.”

You don’t waste a beat, looking directly into Lauren Jauregui’s green eyes. “I guess we’ll see about that.”

Apparently banter comes easy to her, because she gives you one hell of a smile and says, without a shred of insecurity, “Oh, we will.”

And that’s how it begins.

II.

It’s almost like a game, at first.

If Lauren is already stretching when you arrive at practice, you make sure to be half an hour early the next day, relishing in the fact that she has to watch you aim at goal already while she is still warming up. If you do ten extra bleacher sprints, she’ll make sure to mark a better time than you for her agility exercises. If she scores eight out of the ten shoot-outs, you’ll score nine. If you manage to get four out of your long-distance shots past Dinah, Lauren will hit all five of them.

It’s almost like a game – except, it isn’t really.

Something about her riles you up so much that it makes you dizzy, and you don’t even know what. You can’t help but watch her every move, analyzing every single thing she does. Sometimes, it makes your breath hitch in your throat, because she is _so_ good. She can sprint faster than any of the other girls, she hits almost every single shot she takes, and most importantly, she makes an effort. She works her ass off during practice – to the point that her piercing green eyes go glazy, beads of sweat fall into dark eyelashes and she looks like every single muscle in her body is hurting – and you’re not the only one who notices. She doesn’t really attempt to charm the other girls, but they fall under her spell soon enough, anyway, it seems. 

At some point during practice, you see Normani laughing loudly at something Lauren says and something painful snaps in the center of your chest. Normani doubles over in laughter and then repeats the joke to Dinah who cracks up as well – and Lauren just stands there, smiling her perfect smile and leaning on her hockey stick like she’s been here for months rather than two weeks.

You don’t know what comes over you, but before you realize what you are doing, you aim your stick and shoot one of the balls straight in their direction. Dinah and Normani see it coming so they manage to dodge it, but the ball hits Lauren hard against her shin guard.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” you yell, trying to sound as convincing as possible. You quickly make your way over there, before Coach Martin can call you out. Lauren is clenching her teeth, but clearly unwilling to show you that she’s in any sort of pain at all. You avoid her eyes as you run past her towards your ball. When you turn around, she’s right in front of you and it takes you a second to adjust to her close proximity.

“So this is the UCLA spirit, I assume.”

“Sorry,” you say. “My aim was totally off.”

“What the hell is your problem?” she snaps and you hate to admit that the harshness of her tone hits you a little harder than you’d expected.

“What are you talking about?” you say.

She almost laughs – a harsh and mocking sound. “You really can’t handle it, can you? Camila Cabello, UCLA’s very best field hockey player. Can’t even handle a little bit of competition. God, your parents must be so proud of you.”

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about!” you cut at her. “You don’t know anything about me.” 

“Don’t I?” She takes a step closer and you swallow hard, because it’s like there’s heat radiating straight off her body into yours. That’s how tense the air is. “For one thing,” she says, “I know that your aim is never ‘off’. You get every single hockey ball exactly where you want it to be.”

Her words startle you a little. You would never in a million years compliment her so bluntly like that. Still, you’re not about to show her she has any kind of effect on you at all.

“You’re right,” you quickly counter, narrowing your eyes. “I do have perfect aim actually.”

The silence that follows is taut and heavy. You try not to think about how close you are standing to each other but – though you hate to admit it – her eyes are really something. It’s kind of hard to focus on anything else. 

“Just so you know,” she says and once again her voice sends shivers down your spine. “I know you’re desperate for my attention, but there are other ways to get it.”

Her words burn in in your chest. Who does she think she is? “I – that’s not—”

She holds your gaze for a moment longer while you try your best not to let your eyes drop down to her lips. Then she turns around, running back in the direction of the other girls. Dinah raises her eyebrows at you as though to say _you ok?_ You quickly nod, trying to shake it off. During the rest of the training session you try to stay away from Lauren Jauregui as much as possible. You tell yourself it’s because she’s an arrogant, narcissistic bitch – but the burning in your chest doesn’t leave as easily as you’d like it too. 

III.     

Things get increasingly worse.

Obviously, she’s amazing – scoring more goals than anyone else besides you, ensuring the team’s top position in the national competition in a matter of weeks – but she’s fucking infuriating.

“She’s fucking infuriating,” you tell Ally, about a month after Lauren joined the time, when you make your way to the locker rooms after a particularly tough practice. “She thinks she owns the whole freaking field. How is anyone else able to train if she keeps stealing everyone’s chances? Who does she think she is, anyway? With her stupid green eyes and her perfect skin! And obviously, Martin is all over her. His new superstar. Lauren Jauregui, ladies and gentleman—”

“Mila—”

“—I don’t understand how you can all like her so much. She’s so conceited, with her smiles and her bold attitude, acting as if everyone wants to kiss the very ground she walks on—”

“ _Mila—_ ”

“—and she isn’t even that great of a player! She’s reckless and she doesn’t scan the field for opportunities at all! It’s just completely ridiculous—”

“Mila, will you please shut up for second!” Ally snaps. You abruptly stop talking.

“God!” your best friend exclaims desperately. “Just give it a rest, ok? We get it. You don’t like her. I don’t blame you. If someone took my position, I’d be pissed too. But you’ve got to let it go! She’s not that bad! She’s actually really nice once you get to know her and she scores _at least_ half of all the goals—”

“She does not—” you cut in, but Ally doesn’t let you finish your sentence.

“I don’t even want to hear it. Mila, you need to stop, all right? You’re only making things worse. We need you on the team. Both of you. Look, Saturday’s Ava’s birthday party, maybe if you two can just talk for once…”       

“Forget it,” you snap, turning around, making your way out of the locker room again. “Good to know whose side you’re on.”

“I didn’t mean—”  

You slam the door closed, stepping into the chilly evening air again. It’s getting late. You should probably just take a shower like the rest of the team, but you feel shaky on your feet, like you need to move. All this pent up frustration in your chest is driving you crazy. You quickly scan the hockey field, making sure you’re by yourself.   

Then, you start to run.

You start off easy, the exhaustion of the heavy training session still holding you back. But you’ve always been good at running – at shutting off your mind to any distracting thoughts and just _run_ until you’ve calmed down again – so before you know it, you’ve fallen into a fast pace, rounding so many laps around the field that you stop counting at some point. Your chest burns, your mouth goes dry and every single muscle in your body is sore, but you’re _alive_. You feel fast and strong and no can do this like you can, no one can touch you—

“You training for the Olympics or something?”  

You snap out of it, coming to an abrupt halt. She’s leaning against the fence by the side line, arms folded, sports bag swung over her shoulder. Her long dark hair is wet and tangled from the shower. Apart from her, it seems the entire team has left already.

“Honestly, Cabello,” she says. “If you continue at that speed you’re going to seriously injure yourself.”

“What do you want?” you snap, your voice harsh.

She shrugs. “I have some time to kill. My brother just texted me that he’s going to be late picking me up… So the obvious choice of entertainment was watching you trying to break your own ankles.” You roll your eyes and flip her off, ready to take off again, but then she says, “Thanks, by the way, for those kind words in the locker room. You really are the nicest girl on the team, aren’t you?”

You feel a blush of shame make its way up to your cheeks – you didn’t realize she’d heard you. But the scolding expression on her face is getting under your skin and you can’t help yourself. You make your way over until you are standing right in front of her.

“Listen,” you say. “I don’t know what game you think you’re playing with the other girls, but it’s not working on me. I know you’re trying to take my spot, but we both know who the better player is.”

You expect her to snap back at you, get angry with the way you’re talking down at her. But instead, she lets her bag drop to the ground and stands up straight, her face mere inches from yours. She shamelessly trails her eyes over you, before raising her finger to your cheek and brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Depends what game we’re playing, doesn’t it?”

Heat shoots through your body at her words. You swallow hard, unable to shake off the shiver that runs down your spine at the look in her eyes. She holds your gaze and smiles.

You open your mouth, trying to come up with a clever reply.

“Something wrong?” Lauren asks.

“Fuck you,” you manage to get out. “Just – fuck you.”

She bites her lip, slowly smiling. You can see every drop of shower water that is still clinging to her eye lashes. “Well, if that is what you want…”

You slap her hand away from you face and quickly take a couple of steps back, trying to get your act together. This does not happen to you. _You_ are the one who talks up girls like that, not the other way around. She’s not – you’re not – God, you’re not some tiny, delicate girl she can play around with.

“Just so you know,” you say. “I’d never want to fuck you.”

And then you take off running again, not looking back at her once. You run and run and run, even long after Lauren’s brother picks her up. You run until you can barely move your legs, until you can barely feel anything else besides your aching muscles – and still your stomach feels tense and your fingers are shaky and you can’t stop thinking about the way her lips looked when she was standing in front of you, looking at you like that.

IV.

It’s Ava’s twenty-first birthday party and all you want to do is find a girl you can hook up with to kick your confidence back in place.

Unfortunately, there are too many field hockey people here. Ava has invited the entire team as well as the boys’ team, which means you pretty much know every single person here. And as much as you like the other girls, you wouldn’t want to hook up with any of your teammates. You’ve been there, done that already in some cases, and it’s always too much drama. It sucks that Ava doesn’t really hang out with non-hockey people, though. The only other girls here are her roommates and some of her English literature friends.  

“You are looking way too tense,” Normani says, walking up to you with a cup in her hand. “Here, I got you a drink.”        

You smile. “Nice try, Mani. You know I don’t drink.”

She rolls her eyes at you. “Come on, we don’t even have a game this week. Sure, you can allow yourself one drink.”

“No, really,” you say. “Thanks, though.”  

“Suit yourself,” she says, before pulling on your hand. “Come dance with us, at least.”

You let yourself be pulled along for once. Dinah and Ally are already swaying to the beat in the center of the room and they cheer loudly as you approach them.

“Will you look at that?” Dinah calls out, as you casually start moving your hips to the beat. “The ice queen is melting!” You can’t help but laugh out loud and she spins you around. They’re right. It’s good to let go and have some fun in a while. You’ve been feeling way too stressed these past weeks. You move effortlessly on the music, letting your friends loosen you up a little bit. Dinah twirls you around again and again until the room is spinning and you hold up your hand, stepping aside slightly, trying to find your composure.

That’s when you see her.

She’s leaning against the bar, dressed in a short black dress that makes your throat go dry, her hair tangled in lazy curls, red lipstick drawing your attention right to her mouth. She’s smiling, talking to one of Ava’s roommates that you don’t know – a pretty red head who is clearly very flattered by all the attention. You watch as Lauren Jauregui leans over and whispers something in the girl’s ear that is funny enough to make her laugh out loud.

You clench your hands together. _God._ Why is she always ruining your fun?

Lauren says something else, taking a step forward in her high black heels, until she’s pretty much standing pressed against the girl. You can almost hear the suggestiveness, even though you’re not able to make out a single word. The girl blushes scarlet. Lauren smiles and then leans forward, kissing her without a shred of shame for the public display of affection.

Your throat tightens.

You turn around and make your way over to Normani. She’s still holding both cups in her hand. You don’t hesitate a second.

“On second thoughts,” you say, “I could really use that drink.”

The quick intake of alcohol makes your head spin. When you glance back, Lauren still is pressing Ava’s roommate against the bar, so you quickly take Dinah’s cup and down the entire content of that as well. Your friend, now talking to one of the guys on the boys’ team, barely seems to notice. You make your way to the other side of the room, catching the eyes of a blonde girl who only just arrived and is now handing Ava a birthday present. You hold her gaze for a second, before smiling boldly at her. She blushes a little and quickly looks away again. All right, then. This shouldn’t be too hard.

You wait until she’s done greeting everyone and is looking around a little helplessly, wondering who to talk to. You let her sweat it out for half a minute, then make your way over.

“Hey,” you say. “Don’t we know each other?”

The girl bites her lip and blushes. “I – I don’t think so.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” you say, “If we had met before, I would have totally remembered you.”

It works right away. It barely takes you twenty minutes of half-hearted flirting, before she leans over to you and says, in a breathy voice: “Do you want to get out of here?”

The alcohol is still making your head spin and somewhere at the back of your mind you’re unable to shake off the image of Lauren Jauregui’s blood red lips and her long, bare legs, but here’s an easy girl who provides the perfect way to distract yourself, at least for the evening.

Your friends are right. You’ve been tense for weeks.

“Let’s go,” you say to the girl and the way she blushes under your gaze is enough to get you back into focus. You’re Camila Cabello and this is what you you’re good at.

You _are_ the better player after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> Hey everyone, I'm new to Archive of Our Own and kind of new to the fandom as well. Also, English is not my first language so there might be some mistakes here and there that I haven't been able to recognize. Please let me know what you think so far!
> 
> Have a lovely day!  
> -Blake


	3. 2

V.

By the end of October, there is only one game left before you leave for the first training weekend of the season. You’ve been playing so well up until this point that you only need to win this game to be ensured of a place in the quarter finals already. One more game and you’ll be able to breathe for a little bit.        

Despite your perfect record so far – the team hasn’t lost a single game since the beginning of the season – you can tell that everyone is nervous.

Coach Martin keeps pacing up and down the length of the locker room benches, drilling the instructions that he’s already been telling everyone for the last month and a half into your heads again and again. Next to you, Dinah keeps bouncing her leg up and down, Ally has a death grip on your elbow and Normani is sitting with her legs pulled up and her eyes closed, listening to music, trying to block everything else out.

On the bench across from you, Lauren is leaning with her elbows on her knees, clenching and unclenching her hands repeatedly. She doesn’t show it, but you know that, just like everyone else, she’s tense. The two of you haven’t spoken to each other once in the last two weeks. You’ve both just focused on your training sessions, saving energy by trying not to rile each other up at every possible occasion. It’s actually been a little bit of a relief.

Coach Martin is going over positions again – you’ll be center forward and Lauren will be right wing this time – when she looks up and accidentally meets your gaze.

You instinctively look away, staring down at the ground instead, but then you slowly gaze up and find her eyes again. It’s a little different to have her look at you like this. She doesn’t glare at you and she doesn’t kink her left eyebrow up in that annoyingly suggestive way. She just looks at you and you find yourself unable to look away.

Just one more game.

You both know what’s at stake.

The first forty minutes pass in a rush. Your team takes the lead against Ohio relatively quickly with Normani scoring the first goal and you landing the second and third. Around the 30 minute mark, Ohio scores, and then scores again in the 38th minute just before the second break; two lucky shots, but goals that count nevertheless. The score is 3-2 as you gather around to drink water and listen to Coach Martin’s pep talk. You can see how tired everyone is. Ohio may not be the most competitive team, but they are completely focused on defense, making it very difficult to get past them. They’ve been tiring you out, taking advantage of the lucky moments when they’re suddenly able to bring the ball to your side of the field. Your chest heaves up and down as you try to gather your energy. Only 20 minutes left. You’re one goal ahead. It shouldn’t be too hard.

Ohio scores in the 42nd minute by having their center forward tackle Ally hard to the ground and getting away with it. As soon as the referee accepts the goal, your team explodes with anger.

“That’s unfair!” Normani screams, helping Ally up.

You can hear Lauren swear under breath at the referee, which makes you feel an odd shiver of sympathy for her.

“What a fucking asshole,” she says. “I hope Ally is all right.”

A couple of minutes later, the Ohio left defender slams her stick ‘accidentally’ against your ankle, making you crash harshly on the ground with a stinging pain shooting up through your leg. Again, the referee doesn’t seem to think it’s a big deal.

As your teammates start yelling at him once again, Lauren, who’d been standing closest to you, extends her hand to help you up. For a moment you feel like ignoring her hand, but the unfairness of the whole situation has got you so frustrated that you decide it’s better to align against the other team than to make a point of being a bitch. She pulls you up and brushes some of the grass off the front of your shirt. Your stomach flips for some weird reason, but Lauren doesn’t seem to even notice what she's doing, that’s how caught up she is in the game.

“All right, Cabello,” she says, voice a little shaky with anger. “I think it’s time you show these bitches just how fast you can run.”

The last fifteen minutes of the game are absolute hell. Ohio is defending harder than ever, making sure there’s not a single moment where UCLA can take the lead and win the game. You glance at the clock nervously. There are only three minutes of overtime left. Normani gets the ball on her stick and fights her way through the entire left side of the field, only to lose it again at the very last moment. Damn it. You run back. One minute left.

“Mila!” Ally calls at you. It’s a long shot from where she’s standing, but she makes it. The ball lands perfectly in front of your stick. It’s now or never. You make your way across the field. There are three Ohio players coming right at you, but you manage to pass them all. You’re only sixty feet from goal. If only you can— A girl comes at you from the left. You fight your way forward. Forty feet— Another girl right in front of you. You’ve got a split second to decide. Lauren’s on your right, in perfect position to place to goal. Thirty feet.

“Camila!”

You shoot. The ball hits the right pole of the goal just as the referee’s final whistle sounds.

_Fuck._

You fall against the ground. Fuck, fuck, fuck. As you look up, Lauren is glaring at you. She doesn’t say anything but you both know the truth. She was in perfect position to make the winning goal and you didn’t give her the serve. You won’t go straight into the quarter finals.

You can see the disappointment on everyone’s faces as you gather around Coach Martin.

“Ladies,” he says. “First of all, you all did an amazing job today! This is not the end of the world. We’ve won seven matches and tied one. That is great! Of course, we’ll have to see if we’re going straight into the quarter finals. It now depends on how the other teams play their last game, but there’s still a really big chance we’ll get in just as easily as we would have if we had won today.”

The rest of his words go straight over your head. Dinah looks like she’s close to crying. God. You ruined everything. You can feel Lauren’s eyes on you. It surprises you that she isn’t screaming in your face right now. You know you would, if it was the other way around. The next minutes are a blur. The other girls give you hugs and pat you on the back, tell you that it’s not your fault, but you know better. It _is_ your fault. You could have made it, but you didn’t.

You were too damn proud.

“Are you coming back to the locker room, Mila?” Ally says, after almost the entire field has cleared.

You shake your head. “No, I’m – I’m still gonna run for a little while. You go ahead.”

She looks at you. “Mila, it’s not your fault.”

You nod quickly, trying to give her a smile and fighting the tight feeling in your throat. “I know. It’s ok, just go ahead. I’ll be there soon.”

Before she can see the tears burning in your eyes, you turn around and take off. You run mindlessly, trying not to cry, trying as best as you can to keep every single thought about the game out of your mind. You just need to _run_.

“Hey.”

You look up. Lauren is standing with her back against the fence, just like she was last time. You come to a halt. You deserve every single thing that she’ll throw at you right now, but she doesn’t scream. Instead, she nods towards the open space of the field. “Mind if I join you?”

The tight feeling in your throat intensifies, but all you do is shrug, before taking off again. It takes her a lap to catch up with your speed, but as soon as she’s found her focus, she matches your pace easily. You run next to each other for what feels like an hour, not saying a single word, simply trying to keep up. With every lap the tightness in your chest releases a little bit. You’re going faster and faster and you can feel the tears streaming down your eyes now but you don’t stop, you don’t stop, you never want to stop—

You don’t exactly register what happens. One moment you’re still running at full speed, the next moment you’re on the ground, unable to go on anymore.

Lauren is right next to you.

“Hey,” she says. “Hey… I don’t know what has gotten into you right now, but you have got to stop—”

“I’m sorry,” you choke out, unable to meet her eyes.

She looks genuinely taken aback for a second. Then, she says: “Oh, come on, as if I never fucked up a game before.” She pushes her knuckles against your shoulder. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I lost us the game.”

“No, you didn’t,” she says. “First of all, we didn’t lose, we tied. And that was thanks you scoring two out of our three goals, and secondly—”

“I should have let you score the fourth,” you say, before you can take it back.

Lauren smiles softly. “Yeah,” she says. “Yeah, you should have.” She’s silent for a moment, before saying, “Or, you know, maybe I shouldn’t have been so generous in the first half of the game by letting you steal the spotlight. Then I could have made some goals myself.”

You laugh. The sound escapes your mouth before you even realize it. For a moment, you just sit on the grass together, sweaty and panting, not saying anything.

Then you say, “What time is your brother picking you up?”

She shrugs. “I guess he’ll be here any minute.”

Again, there’s silence between you, but it isn’t as bad as before. It actually feels like your chest has opened up a little bit.

“Thank you,” you mumble eventually.

Lauren smiles. “Don’t mention it. Honestly, those bitches aren’t worth it. It’s just a game. You were fantastic.”

It’s such a blunt statement that you can’t help but go a little red at her words. “Lauren—,” you say, finally looking up to properly meet her eyes. Your breath hitches in your throat at the piercing green that’s staring back at you. “I’m – uh – I guess I—”

Before you can finish your sentence, someone honks their car from the parking lot.

“That must be Chris,” Lauren says, getting up. “I guess I’ll see you on Friday for training weekend.”

You quickly nod, trying to shake off the weird feeling in your stomach. “Yeah, see you on Friday.”

You watch her run to the other side of the field. Right before she reaches the line, she turns around. “Hey, Cabello!” she shouts. “Don’t think I’m letting you out of that apology so easily!”

You can’t fight your smile.

VI.

Unfortunately, by the time you’re two hours into training weekend, every single drop of sympathy you’ve ever felt for Lauren Jauregui has vanished. You have absolutely no idea what has gotten into her, but this is fucking ridiculous.

It starts when she shows up twenty minutes late for the bus. Her hair is a mess, there are dark circles under her eyes and she’s wearing black leather pants and a white top, as if she just walked out of a club. Her mascara is smeared and there’s a very visible hickey on the hollow of her throat, which makes your stomach clench in a strange way.

She barely even looks up when Coach Martin yells at her before the bus takes off and spends the entire drive on her phone, not really paying attention to any of the other girls. When you arrive at the hotel, you’re all allowed half an hour to get ready in your rooms before practice kicks off at 10. Again, she arrives too late, missing most of warm-up.

It’s not even the worst part.

She’s playing recklessly. She’s doesn’t listen to any of the directions you give her, she’s unnecessarily rude to the other girls and she flips Coach Martin off behind his back when he yells at her again.  She’s going _hard_ , but she’s so unfocused that she doesn’t run out for passes in time and misses half of her shots, which only seems to frustrate her more. She spends most of the short breaks that you get between practice games on her phone. _Again._

You can feel the anger rising in your chest like a hot fire – what the hell does she think she’s doing. This is a training weekend, for fuck’s sake. As she fails to accept yet another one of your passes, you can’t take it anymore.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” you demand, coming to an abrupt halt in front of her.

She gives you a bored look. “Is something wrong?”

“Yes, something’s wrong!” you hiss. “You just missed a shot even though the goal was wide open! In case you forgot, we’ve got a game to win next week. What the hell have you done last night that has you acting like this?”

Her eyebrow kinks up in that suggestive way that always pisses you off. “You want to know what I did last night?”

“No, I don’t care what—”

“I _am_ a little sore,” she cuts in, before you can finish your sentence. “If you know what I mean…”

You fight the shiver that rushes through you at her words. She clearly notices it, though, because she smiles smugly, placing one hand on her hip while leaning with the other one on her hockey stick. “Anything else you want to know? Maybe a play-by-play of what happened exactly? You seem kind of hot about the idea.”

She leans a little closer to you, breath teasingly brushing against your lips.

“Watch your attitude,” you hiss, stepping back from her. “I’m still the captain of this team.”

She rolls her eyes at you dismissively and mutters something under her breath that sounds a lot like _fucking hell you need to get laid_ before turning around and running off to the side line to collect the hockey ball that she missed, no longer bothering to listen to you anymore. 

During the rest of the morning practice, she gets on your nerves so much that Ally has to physically pull you back when Lauren once again messes up her pass on purpose, smirking at you in the process.

“Leave it,” Ally says. “You don’t know why she’s being like this, Mila. Maybe something happened.”

You know that your best friend is right, but frankly, you couldn’t care less if something’s happened. You need your team to work their ass off this weekend, because even though you might be ahead in the competition, you’ve really got to step it up if you want to make sure it stays like that. _You_ need to work your ass off, because you’re the one who screwed up the last game, you know that too – but _she_ needs to get her act together already. 

Lunch means forty-five minutes of watching Lauren bite her lip and smile at her phone in the most flirtatious way and it pisses you off more than anything else. So much, in fact, that you decide to go up to your hotel room for a little while, in a half-hearted attempt to clear your head.

It doesn’t work.

You splash cold water in your face and you lay down on your bed and you pace the length of the corridor multiple times and it doesn’t _work._ You’ve got absolutely no idea what is going on – why this is getting to you so much – but it’s making your breathing a little ragged and your thoughts clouded.

Of course, when you hurry down to the field, quickly stopping by the locker room to pick up your sweatshirt, you run right into her. 

She’s leaning back against the wall, phone still in her hand. The other girls have already made their way to the field. When you enter the locker room, she looks up, her green eyes staring right into yours.

You bite your lip hard and make your way over to your locker. You grab your sweater, turn around, not even bothering to tell her to hurry up because she won’t listen to you anyway, but right before you open the door again she says, “Those shorts look really good on you.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. You don’t turn around.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you say, your voice rougher than necessary.

You can feel her smile at your harsh reaction without even seeing it.

“It means…” she says, drawn out and husky, making your body is acting of its own accord as you turn back towards her, only to find her already walking up to you. “… that I think your ass looks really hot in those shorts and I thought you should know.”

You can feel the feverish blush spreading on your cheeks at her words. You’ve got no idea what the _hell_ she’s playing at, but you’re unable to stop her from moving closer to you.

“I already told you – I’m not interested,” you snap and Lauren laughs.

She places her hand against the door, right over your shoulder, cornering you against it. “Sure, you’re not…”

Your eyes flick down to her mouth as she slowly runs her tongue over her bottom lip before tugging it back with her teeth – fuck, you _hate_ it when she does that. It feels like heat is pulsing off her body into yours. You only absentmindedly register that you’re also biting down on your own lip and you swallow hard as her eyes lock into yours.

“When’s the last time you had sex?” she says.

It’s so fucking blunt and invasive that you almost snap right out of it. You can feel your whole body tense. Your breathing is getting more uneven with every second. But still, you’re not able to widen the distance between you.

“God, that long?” she continues, leaning in even closer. “No wonder you’re so tense all the time…”

“ _Shut up_ ,” you breathe out. “Jesus – you’re so fucking full of yourself, you arrogant, conceited—”

“Don’t even try it.”

You sputter. “W-what?”

She smiles, her lips teasingly close to yours. “Don’t even try to pretend that you haven’t been fantasizing about having sex with me, Camila.”

You’re not thinking straight anymore. Her lips are so close to yours and there’s so much tension pulsing through your body that you’re surprised you’re still standing.  

“You’re— that’s not—” you breathe out.

“I have,” she says, looking you right in the eyes. “Just so you know.”

And then, she pushes the door open behind you, almost making you tumble backwards. She takes off, running in the direction of the field and leaving you right there, cheeks flushed, breathing heavily.

It’s only the beginning.   


	4. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> warning: the second part of the chapter is explicit.

VII.

For the rest of the weekend, you more or less manage to avoid Lauren. At some point, you wonder if maybe that was her intention in the first place, because her mood seems to improve significantly now that she’s _ensured_ you leave her alone, in the most confusing and mind-fucking way.

It takes every single fiber of your concentration to stop thinking about the things she said to you. You try to focus on your hockey training instead, talking through game strategies with Coach Martin, working on your feints, running endless laps around the field until your legs hurt so much that you can’t feel anything else besides that – and it kind of works.

Unfortunately, the other girls are not that easily convinced.  

“All right, Mila,” Normani says as she puts her dessert plate down on the table, taking the seat right across from you. “What the hell is going on with you and Lauren?”

You almost choke on your water.

It’s Sunday night and early tomorrow morning you’ll all take the bus back to campus again. The weekend is almost over. You’ve almost made it. Just the final night – a tactics lecture from your coach, a final training session and the ridiculous pool party tradition – and then you’ll go home again and you won’t have to look at Lauren Jauregui’s long legs all the time anymore.

Normani smirks at your red face. “Well?”

“Nothing,” you tell her, still coughing. “What the hell, Mani…”

“Oh, come on,” Dinah cuts in, taking the seat next to Normani. “We’ve been sensing the weird vibe all weekend. You’re staring at her, she’s staring at you, no one is looking at my sexy ass anymore.” She chuckles at her own joke. “So spill it, Mila – did you two hook up or something?”

You knock your glass over. _Jesus Christ._ You swear at yourself under your breath. Why do you have to be so freaking clumsy all the time?

“No!” you spit out, grabbing several napkins to clean up the mess. “What – _no._ We did not hook up. We will never hook up. I hate her.”

Dinah and Normani look at each other and then back at you.

“We don’t buy it,” Dinah grins. “Even if you haven’t hooked up with her, you sure as hell seem to want to.”

Your entire ribcage feels like it’s on fire. Your cheeks are blazing red and you can’t look your best friends in the eyes.

“You don’t have to deny it, Mila,” Normani smiles. “We’re not blind. I mean, she is really hot…”

You can’t help yourself – you know they’re fucking teasing you – but you can’t stop your thoughts. Lauren’s low voice echoes in your ears. _Don’t even try to pretend that you haven’t been fantasizing about having sex with me._ Your breath catches in your throat. Of course you’ve thought about it. Her smooth, pale skin hot against your own, writhing under your touch; her eyes as you run your hands all over her body; nails digging in your back as she moans your name into your mouth; her tongue, hot and demanding, licking all the way down to your—

Coach Martin claps his hands loudly. Dinah and Normani are staring at you with the smuggest smiles you’ve ever seen. You blush feverishly. Is it really this hot in here?

Martin starts talking, but your eyes drift over to the long table at the end, only to find that Lauren is already looking at you, eyebrows slightly drawn together, eyes so intensely green and piercing—

You tear your gaze away and quickly drink whatever water is still left in your glass, before forcing yourself to pay attention to your coach.

“Starting in five minutes, we will have a session on game strategies,” Martin says, “It will take about half an hour. After that, I’ve decided it would be best to have a final cardio session – nothing too crazy, just a good way to end the weekend together, and then you can all have the night off.” He gives you a look. “Of course, I expect you to behave. I will not accept any of you girls being a disturbance to the other hotel guests.” There’s a shimmer in his eyes, as the smile he’s been holding back finally breaks through on his face. “But I would like you to know that I reserved the swimming pool for all of you tonight, so you can have a relaxing swim after our final practice.”

Cheers erupt all around you. It’s not really a surprise. Coach Martin always does this, every single training weekend. He’ll make sure you all work your asses off for three days straight, but then he’ll turn a blind eye to the alcoholic mess that is the traditional pool party on the last night.

You take a deep breath. It’s just one night. One more night to get through and then you’ll be home and you won’t have to think about anything anymore. Just one more night. You’ll be fine.

Of course – Lauren Jauregui, half naked in front of you, is not something you were ready for. 

VIII.

Loud music is blasting through the speaker set that one of the girls thought to bring with them. People are dancing all around you. You don’t even bother to turn away the drink that Normani pushes in your hand. The vodka makes your head spin – but you need it. Apparently, Jessa and Cameron met a couple of guys from a men’s lacrosse team from a different university on the first day you arrived here, which explains why you have never seen half of the people around you before. Not that you really have eyes for anyone else, anyway.

She’s wearing a very low-cut black one-piece that leaves just enough to the imagination that your throat gets dry every time you trace your eyes over the curves of her hips, her stomach, her legs…

She’s sitting on the edge of the swimming pool, feet circling in the water, hair flowing down her back in long messy waves. She’s talking to Ava and Ally and some boy that you don’t know. As the guy stares at Lauren, it’s clear that he’s got other things on his mind than the conversation they’re having, though. You feel your eyes narrow. It’s like something’s been torn loose inside your chest, something hot and raw and frayed. You can’t stop staring.

Then, Lauren looks up, her gaze locking into yours—

—right at the very moment that Dinah decides to push you in the pool.

You come up gasping for air, water dripping off you. Your best friend is doubled over, laughing loudly. You push yourself up on the side of the pool and run your hand through your wet hair, trying to get it out of your eyes. “For fuck’s sake, Dinah.”

“Milaaaaa,” she yells, clearly very drunk already. At your angry scowl, she puts her hands up in defense. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. You were asking for it. I’m just saying – it looked like you needed to cool off!”

She laughs loudly. “Here, have a cocktail…”

You down the drink in a couple of seconds, standing up and searching for your towel. It’s been enough. You need some air. Quickly, you make your way through the dozens of people. You try to find the showers, but it’s too crowded to properly see anything – you can hardly make your way through the dancing masses. You bite your lip in frustration, scanning the room for another option. At the far end of the swimming pool, a small split in the wall allows for people to go to the outside pool. It’s past midnight already. But fresh air is fresh air.

You dive straight into the water – your hair is already wet, anyway – and swim until you are outside.

It is way colder than you expected, especially for California, which might explain why you’re the only one here. But the silence is nice. You take a deep breath, blowing the hot air slowly out of your lungs and into the night. There are shivers all over your body, but thankfully, the water is still warm. It’s actually a really nice sensation; the breeze against your heated body.

You take a couple of moments to just float, breathing into the silence of the night.

“Hey.”

You turn around and there she is. You don’t know why, but for some reason it doesn’t really surprise you. She’s been intent on disturbing your peace for the entire weekend already, so what’s new?

She gives you a smile that you don’t return and then she slowly starts making her way forward in your direction. You try not to let yourself get flustered, but it’s difficult. You feel so fucking naked under her gaze, even with your bikini on.

“What do you want?” you snarl at her, forcing yourself not to let your voice waver.

The corner of Lauren’s mouth curls upward. “So defensive always, Cabello.”

“Well—” you start. “You’re in my space.”

It’s a lame excuse. She doesn’t care much for it, either, because she only moves closer to you, until you can see the drops of water in her eyelashes and your back suddenly hits the cold wall of the swimming pool. You hadn’t realized you’d been backing up.      

She stares at you – hard. “I don’t see the problem.”

Your breathing goes uneven. She’s so _damn_ close to you. Your whole body feels hot and shaky. The way she looks at you makes a shiver run down your spine. Your eyes flutter closed, despite your efforts not to let her know how she is making you feel. _Get it together._

Then, Lauren slowly reaches out and traces her fingers over the skin of your neck, down to your collarbone, brushing some of the water drops off your skin. You force yourself to open your eyes again.

“You’re such a fucking bitch,” you say, because you have to do _something_.

It doesn’t even slightly have the effect you want it to have. Her red lips part into her signature suggestive smile. “Look at that pretty mouth of yours swearing at me… I wonder what else I could make it do—”

You kiss her.

Something just snaps inside of you and she gasps into your mouth, surprised and unprepared at the sudden movement – but then, all your inhibitions get thrown to wind, because she pushes you roughly against the wall and kisses you back. Her mouth is hot and hungry – she tastes of liquor and something else that has you moaning into her mouth in no time. Her hands are on your hips, fingers digging into your skin as she pulls you hard against her. It’s so fucking _good_. You can’t help yourself – you wrap your leg around her hip, digging your heel into the back of her leg until her thigh is between yours.

She breaks apart at the sensation. “Fuck, Camila…”

That is really all you need. You tug her leg harder between yours and then kiss her again, running your hands over her back, making her fall into you even more. Your thighs clench together around her leg and _this_ is all you want, _this_ is what you’ve been waiting for – her mouth and her tongue and her hands and her skin—

“LACROSSE FOREVER!”

There’s a loud yell and you break away from Lauren as if she’s burned you. You’re panting heavily, slammed right back into reality as three or four guys from the lacrosse team start making their way through the split in the wall. They haven’t noticed you yet, but _Jesus fucking Christ_ – what are you even doing?

“This was a one-time thing,” you snap at Lauren, pushing her off of you, before she can even say anything.

You need to get out of here.

“Hey,” one of the guys says, finally noticing you, as you make your way back inside. “Where are you going, cutie?”

Everything is a blur – the people, the music. You’re not able to properly breathe again until you’re back in your hotel room, crashed onto the bed with a towel wrapped around you and nothing but thoughts of Lauren Jauregui’s hands all over your body in your head – and even then, you can’t really.           

IX.

Neither of you talk about it.

On the bus ride home, the next morning, you sit in the back next to Ally and Dinah who have both fallen asleep against you, and Lauren sits in the front, watching something on her phone together with Normani. She laughs out loud a couple of times and the sound makes your stomach clench.

Really – _what were you thinking_? How could you have let yourself go so easily?

You decide to blame the alcohol.

During the week, you try to push all thoughts about what happened out of your head, focusing on hockey instead. You spend a ridiculous amount of time running laps around the field outside of practice hours. She doesn’t join you. She doesn’t even throw any stupid remarks at you from the side line, leaning against the fence, because she’s disappeared. You haven’t seen her since Monday morning.

She hasn’t even shown up for practice.

You ask Normani about it at some point, because you can’t _not_ wonder what the hell Lauren is up to now. But Normani tells you that she doesn’t know, that she hasn’t talked to Lauren since Monday either, and it makes you realize that none of you really know anything personal about her. You don’t even have her number. You’re not even friends on Facebook.

(You try to ignore how nervous it’s making you that you’re not entirely sure if she’s ok.)

Finally, after a week, on Saturday, you breathe a short breath of relief, because Lauren shows up for your game – at the very last minute, still busy tying her hair back and pulling her socks up over her shin guards – but she’s there. She doesn’t look at you, avoids your gaze while you finish your final warm-up run. She talks to Coach Martin briefly, and his expression shifts from anger to understanding. Then he just nods and gestures in the direction of the field, where you’re already starting to get in position.

She runs up to the right side of the field and as she passes you, you accidentally catch her gaze. She looks absolutely fucking exhausting, close to passing out even. But she grits her teeth and avoids your eyes again, and you stay stuck in your position, paralyzed and shaken by her sudden appearance. Before any of the other girls can approach her, the whistle blows and the game begins.

You end up winning. It’s a close call, but Normani manages to score right before the final whistle. As you congratulate your teammates with the victory, you notice again how dark the circles under Lauren’s eyes are, how she looks like she hasn’t slept in days.

Normani runs up to you, frowning. “Is Lo ok?”

All you hear in your friend’s voice is concern, but for some reason the fact that she asks _you_ rubs you the wrong way, especially because you haven’t got a fucking clue what’s going on with Lauren.

“How should I know?” you lash out, harsher than you’d intended. “Why don’t you ask her yourself?”

Normani rolls her eyes at you and then moves in Lauren’s direction, but before she can reach her, Lauren has already taken off, running to the far end of the field.

It starts raining and your team quickly begins to make their way over to the showers. You stare after her for a moment longer, but then decide it’s not your business. You don’t even _want_ to know. It still makes you feel completely restless, though. While the other girls take their showers, you sit down on the bench and flip mindlessly through your phone, until most of them are done and have already left.

“Mila?” Ally calls, walking out of the showers, towel wrapped around her. “You can shower if you want. There’s a lot of space already.”

“Yeah,” you mumble. “In a minute. I’m not feeling very well. I think I need to eat something first.”

You rummage through your bag until you find an apple. Ally throws you a concerned look. “Are you all right? Do you want me to wait for you?”

“Nah.” You wave her off. “That’s all right. Thanks, though.”

You give her a faint smile. She slowly nods, looking like she wants to say something else, but in the end she decides against it, drying herself and putting on her clothes instead. She’s the last one to leave the locker room.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to—” she says, right before she leaves, but again you wave her off.

“I’ll be fine. Thanks, Ally. See you tomorrow, yeah?”        

She nods and then you’re alone in the empty locker room. You can hear the rain crashing down on the roof; it’s getting heavier by the minute. You clench your hands together – you don’t know why, but you’re not able to shake the strange feeling in your chest off of you. Eventually, you force yourself to stand up. Maybe a hot shower is exactly what you need. You pull your jersey off and strip down to your underwear. Right as you’re about to unclasp your bra, you hear the door swing open.

Lauren is standing in the doorway, shivering from head to toe, completely soaked.

“Oh—” She says, looking at you. “—I thought everyone left already.”

Her gaze falls to your body, eyes tracing over your sports bra all the way down to where your panties are just a little low on your hips. Her eyes darken a little and you swallow hard.

She stares at the towel that you’re holding in your hand. “Um,” she says. “I’ll – I’ll just wait until you’re finished.”

You slowly nod. The silence between you is tense and uncomfortable. She’s shivering, dripping water on the floor. You can’t stop looking at her. Her eyes are so _fucking_ captivating. Then, she shivers again, very visibly, as goosebumps appear on her skin.

You quickly step aside. “If you want to, you can go first.” 

“No, no,” she says. “It’s fine. You’re already almost naked, anyway.”

Your stomach flips. She seems to realize what she said, because a faint blush appears on her cheeks. It sends a strange sensation through your body – it’s not often that Lauren actually gets nervous. You can’t help your thoughts; all you can think about is the swimming pool and her hands on your stomach and her mouth hot on yours and the way you clenching your thighs on her leg had her more flustered than you’d ever seen her before.

You need to get away.

In one swift moment you click your bra open and pull down your panties and then walk into the shower, trying to ignore the way you can hear her take a sharp inhale at your bold move, right before she disappears out of your sight. You turn the shower on and lose yourself in the heat. You breathe into the steaming air and run your hands over your body, trying to soothe your aching muscles, trying _not_ to think of the fact that you’re _naked_ and she’s less than ten feet away from you.

Your stupid mind can’t ignore her completely, though, so after about a minute of agonizing silence, you speak up. “You missed a lot of practice.” 

She scoffs. “Great observation…”

“You know,” you say, even though you have no fucking clue why you’re even _talking_ in the first place. “You’ve really got to get your act together. It’s been very inconvenient, having you just come and go whenever you please.”

She’s silent. She’s silent for so long that you think she must not have heard you. But then her voice comes from the outside the shower, as she answers in that low and suggestive tone that always riles you up, “You missed me staring at your ass during practice?”

Right as she says it, your hand moves over your breast and the combination of her words and the sensation makes your stomach flip so hard that you have to press your legs together at the sudden rush of heat that goes through your body.

“Fuck off,” you say, your voice shaking. Then you add, “As your captain, I think I deserve an explanation as to where you’ve been during the past two weeks. It’s quite unprofessional.”

It’s childish. It’s ridiculous. You don’t even really want to know. But you need to do _something_ to make sure you don’t let her words get to you. She’s been playing around with you and flirting her way out things for way too long.

“As my captain,” she says, her voice kind of raspy. “I think you should try a little harder not to look like you want to fuck me senseless every single time you see me. It’s quite unprofessional.”  

You gasp. “That’s just – I don’t. That’s not – at all what I want.”

She doesn’t respond right away. You can hear her move around in the locker room. Your heart is racing in your chest. All your muscles are tense, despite the hot water crashing down on top of you. A shiver runs along your spine.

“It’s not what you want?”

You look up. She’s right next to you, completely naked, turning on the faucet of the shower next to yours.

“Jesus—” you swear. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“I’m taking a shower. What does it look like?”

Then, the water is crashing down on both of you and you watch her shudder as she washes the cold rain off of her body. You bite your lip so hard that you almost draw blood. You can’t stop yourself anymore – she’s naked and she’s letting you stare at her and she’s been messing with your head for so fucking long already.

“Laur—” Her name catches in your throat as she turns.

Her eyes lock into yours, and then she steps forward, puts her hand on the back of your neck and captures your lips in a heated, messy kiss. It takes you less than a second to respond, pressing yourself up against her, forcing her mouth open so you can taste her tongue. _Fuck._ It’s almost too much – she’s so naked and so _hot_ and you can barely even stand on your feet with her pressed so closely against you. She hooks her arms around your waist and then pushes you back hard against the cold wall, pinning your hands up so she has free access to run her mouth down your neck. You moan as she sucks on your pulse point. Fucking hell. You don’t know what you’re doing, but you know you want to. Her fingers run over your stomach, down your hip bone, disappearing between your legs—

“Jesus, _Camila…_ ”

You know you’re wet for her. You’ve been wet since the second you stepped into the shower.

For a moment her fingers hover over you. Then, she bites hard into the skin of your shoulder at the same time that she pushes two fingers inside of you.

“ _Lauren_ – oh my god—” Her name falls from your lips and you pull her face towards you, kissing her hard while she keeps sliding in and out of you, while rubbing her palm all over you, again and again. The heat inside you starts building so rapidly that you’re having trouble standing up straight.

“Oh god…” she breathes against your lips as she curls her fingers and your entire body shudders.

“Fuck, _Laur_.”

She sucks on your nipple and you can’t stop yourself from screaming out. Your legs are shaking and she pulls you even closer against her. She keeps hitting your spot and your head is spinning. You can’t even – you’re not even—

“I think I’m… _Fuck,_ Lauren. I’m going to—”

She kisses you, then, pressing hard into you, and you fall apart right in her arms, shuddering and shaking all over as your orgasm rushes through you so fucking hard. She’s panting, breathing into the steaming air all around you. She leans forward and kisses your neck, kisses right beneath your jaw—

You drop to your knees. You pull on her wrists until you’ve got her right where you want her and then you look up, at the exact same time that your tongue finds its way between her legs.

She swears loudly. “ _Fuck,_ _Camila_.”

Her head falls back and you can’t stop your own moans as you taste her. Her hand fists in your wet hair, pushing you even closer against her.

“Yes…” she breathes. “Oh god…”

You let go of her wrist, bringing your hand up to the inside of her legs, letting your fingers hover over her skin, while you continue pressing your mouth against her.

She swears again and lets out a low, throaty sound of frustration. “Stop fucking teasing me.”

You can’t help but look up at her. “Is this what you fantasized about, Lauren?”

Her eyes lock into yours and she gasps at the sight of your face between her legs. Before she can even answer, you push your fingers inside her and the string of swears she lets out makes your head spin.

“Yes… yes – fuck – like that. Oh my god…”

Her legs begin to shake as you bring her closer and closer to her climax. She pushes herself against you even harder and then you curl your fingers and she comes undone right there, tightening all around you in the most delicious way.

After that, all you can do is breathe – feeling the water crashing down on the both of you as your vision clears back into focus. She pulls you up and for a moment, you just stand under the shower together, looking at each other, not saying anything.

Then, the corner of her lip curls upwards. “One-time thing, huh?”

“Shut the fuck up,” you mumble, as the reality of the situation crashes into you again.

She only grins a little wider, before turning off the faucet and grabbing both your towels. You dress silently, neither of you addressing what has happened. You try to calm your racing nerves, but it seems impossible. All you feel, all over your body, is Lauren.

You leave the locker room before she’s done getting ready and you don’t look back.


	5. 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  
> warning: explicit

X.

It’s not a one-time thing – obviously.

As soon as you catch sight of her the next day, leaning casually against the door of the locker room, you know you won’t be able to stop yourself. You’re both half an hour early for practice, which you decide to dismiss as a coincidence, even though your body knows better. You have to try, though. You’re just going to get changed and that’s all you’re going to do. But when Lauren catches sight of you, she gives you a lipstick red smile that pulses right through you.  

You push the door to the empty locker room open and walk right past her, not giving her a second glance, but she follows right behind you.

You throw your hockey bag into a corner and pull your shirt up over your head – and then her hands are on your hips and you spin around, your body moving before your mind catches up as you pull her into you, kissing her hard and fast—

—and there is no way back.

All through November, this is what you do.  

You stare at each other for too long during practice, argue heavily in front of the other girls, deflect any personal questions that either of you dares to ask the other, you run and play hockey and fight and test each other’s limits in every single way possible – and somehow, you always end up half naked against a door or in a bathroom somewhere with Lauren’s tongue between your legs or your hands all over her body, gasping each other’s names as you come.

It’s just about sex – obviously.

You don’t care about the smile she gives you whenever you score a particularly impressive goal, or about the fact that she’s one of the only people who genuinely laughs at all your bad jokes, or about the kisses she presses against your throat every time she falls against you, panting and spent and so goddamn _soft_.

You don’t care that she shamelessly flirts with other people right in front you – leaning into girls at parties, chatting up the competition during games. You don’t care that she spends most team meetings on her phone, probably receiving nudes from _God knows_ who, if the heated smiles on her face are any indication.

You don’t care that sometimes when you fight, she says something that actually really hurts you.  You don’t care about the way she pulls you into her after – forgetting all about the hate and the arguments and the stinging pain – making _you_ forget as well with the way she touches you and the way she kisses you and the way she moans _what are you doing to me_ in your ear when you’re naked and all over her.

You don’t care about the fact that she grabs your hand sometimes right before the most important games, if only for a few seconds, about how confident she makes you feel every time she looks at you like _that_. You don’t care about the fact that every night you lie in bed and the only thing you think about is Lauren.   

You don’t care about the way your stomach clenches whenever she shows up late to practice again and you don’t know how to ask if she’s ok. 

You don’t care about any of it. You don’t care about her eyes.

It’s just about sex.

XI.

There’s another training weekend to prepare you for the final games before the Christmas break and Lauren decides to sit next to you on the bus – as much to your surprise as to the other girls’. You can see Dinah whisper something in Normani’s ear which makes her chuckle and Ally rolls her eyes at the both of them. You try to ignore them all, keeping your gaze forward as Lauren slides down on the seat next to you.

“Good morning,” she says, opening the very delicious smelling paper bag on her lap. She’s perfectly on time and she looks like she’s in a good mood – her smile red, her eyes bright and shiny. She brings the paper bag to her face and inhales deeply. “ _Pain au chocolat_ … You want some?”

You stare at her, not answering.

“What?” she says, raising her eyebrows. “Do I have chocolate on my face already?” 

She look so confused at your lack of response, that you can’t help but smile a little, despite the fact that this is _not_ what you do together. You don’t just talk – casually. There are always a hundred different layers to every single thing you and Lauren say to each other.   

“Good morning,” you mumble then, because you don’t know what else to say. 

She smiles back at you and takes a large bite of her pain au chocolat, her eyes falling closed as she moans, “This is so delicious… You don’t know what you’re missing, Cabello.” Her head falls back against the chair. “So fucking _good…_ ”

You can’t help but get a little flustered at that – two nights ago she said the exact same thing while you had her pinned against the locker room bench with your face between her thighs.

She hands you the bag. “Come on, try them. I’m feeling generous today.”

You roll your eyes but obey anyway, taking a large bite out of the chocolate roll. As soon as the half-melted chocolate hits your tongue, you feel your eyes widen. “Damn, those _are_ really good.”

Lauren smiles with her mouth full. “I know!” 

She looks so goddamn attractive – with her hair still messy from the early morning wind outside and her eyes glinting with excitement and her beanie almost falling off her head. You can’t help but look at her, taking in as many details of her face as you can; her dark eyebrows, her thick eyelashes, her teeth, the spot just below her jaw where you can still see the faint mark of a hickey you made a week ago—

You feel a little hot.

She grins at you, then slowly leans forward and brushes her thumb over your bottom lip. “Hold on, you’ve got a little bit of chocolate here…”

Your mouth parts as she slowly runs her thumb over your lip, lingering just a little bit longer for it to be casual. She seems to realize it at the same time as you do. But instead of turning away immediately, like you probably would, she allows the faint blush to rise up to her cheeks while she keeps looking at you.

“So,” she breathes out, her voice a little raspy. “Are you ready for the weekend?”  

There’s a sharp tug at the back of stomach, because you get the feeling that she’s not exactly talking about hockey. You force yourself not to stammer when your say, “Of course.”

“You sure?” She bites down on her bottom lip, before winking at you and adding, “Because you look a little tense…”

Fucking hell – she’s flirting with you. Right here in the middle of the team bus. She’s not even trying to hide it either, judging by the smug smile on her face. You quickly look around, but it seems like no one is really paying attention to you.

“Actually…” you say. Your face already feels flustered – but you can’t stop. You haven’t even been on this bus for ten minutes and she’s already driving you crazy. “Now that you say it, I am feeling a little hot. Could you just hold my jacket for a sec?”

You pull your jacket off and put it on her lap. She’s frowning slightly, looking a little confused at your movement. You’re wearing a white button-up and simple jeans shorts – nothing spectacular. Lauren’s frown deepens, but then her eyes widen as your fingers slowly curl around the top button of your shirt. Her smile wavers as you move to open it. “What are you—”

You slowly unbutton the next one and her breath visibly catches in her throat as you pull the collar of your shirt open just far enough to give her a glimpse of the lacy, red bra you’re wearing underneath it. You bought the matching set only yesterday, after the thought of Lauren tearing the fancy material off of you at some point during the weekend made you completely forget about the ridiculous price on the tag.

Lauren bites her lip hard, cheeks getting more flushed by the second. “Camila…” she breathes out.

“Hm,” you say. “I’m still a little hot. Think you can help me out of these later?”

Your thumbs hook into the belt loops of your jean shorts as you pull them down just far enough for her to see the matching material of your panties.

“Fuck,” she mumbles under her breath.

“What?” you tease her. “You’re looking a little tense, Laur.”

You bring your hand up to trace a slow path with your fingers over your neck and down, drawing her attention exactly to where you want to have it. You pull your collar open even further and run your tongue over your bottom lip, relishing in the fact that she looks so extremely _bothered_ by it. She glares at your hard, before quickly looking over your shoulder to the other girls. Then, she leans in and whispers hotly in your ear, “You’re ruining my panties…”       

_Damn it._

She smiles, before softly adding, “Maybe I should take them off…”

“Lauren—”

“Ladies!” Coach Martin’s loud voice cuts right through the heavy tension. Lauren jumps away from you, running a hand through her hair, while you quickly sit up straight, buttoning your shirt again. “I’d like to go over the program for this weekend. Please listen up…”

He starts pacing up and down the aisle of the bus. As you turn backwards, you catch Dinah’s face. She’s wiggling her eyebrows at you, smirking. Your eyes widen, but her grin only spreads before she mouths something in your direction. _Check your phone._

You pull your phone out of your pocket.

As you read Dinah’s latest message, you blush even harder. You quickly flip her off before leaning back against the chair, trying your very best to ignore the fact that your best friend actually has a valid point.

_I’m so onto you, Mila. Y’all couldn’t wait till we were in the hotel?_

No, you couldn’t wait. With Lauren, it seems you never can.

XII.         

Practice is torture.

Lauren appears to be intent on thing, and one thing only – making you as hot for her as she possibly can. She takes every opportunity she gets, starting in the locker room. Most of the girls have already changed in their hotel rooms, but apparently Lauren thinks it’s a great idea to strip off her clothes barely three feet away from you. You try your very best not to stare, while Normani is telling you all about some new show on Netflix she’s been watching.

When Lauren’s naked except for her underwear and black sports bra, she ‘accidentally’ drops her jersey on the floor, bending over right in front of you to pick it up, giving you a perfect view of her ass. You swallow hard and pull Normani with you out of the locker room.

_This is going to be a long day._

During the actual hockey exercises, you mess up so many times that you stop counting – all because Lauren seems to have decided to show off just how fucking athletic she really is. You clench your jaw, because she _knows_ this drives you crazy. You simultaneously hate and love how good she is at field hockey. You are extremely impressed and insanely jealous, bothered by it and fascinated by it at the same time. This is your weak spot and she loves playing with it. She knows exactly how to rile you up so much that you just _have_ to find some sort of release for it – usually ending up with your hands all over her body as you make her come so hard that she almost blacks out.

It’s November, but the California days are still hot. When Lauren decides to pour her entire bottle of water right of her head to cool off, making her jersey stick to her body in all the right places, you can’t take it anymore.

You decide to take a cold shower in your hotel room.

Dinner is not much better.         

She keeps teasing you; touching your hand or your arm or your shoulder at any time she gets, standing way too close to you even though you are talking to your other teammates, giving you suggestive smile after suggestive smile – and now _this_.

She’s taken the seat next to you at one of the long tables. You’re talking to Ally about what she wants to do after graduation, taking small bites of the raspberry cheesecake that you’re having as dessert, when Lauren moves in next to you and casually drops her hand on your knee under the table. Your breath hitches in the back of your throat. At first, you think she’s not even doing it on purpose. She’s listening to Ally very attentively, asking questions at all the right moments but then – and who are you kidding, _of course she’s doing it on purpose_ – she slowly puts her hand a little higher on your leg, putting a little bit more pressure on it.

You glare at her, but she’s not meeting your gaze.

“… I know it’s difficult, but I’d really like to start my own record company at some point,” Ally says and Lauren smiles, slowly running her finger tips over the inside of your thigh.

“That sounds really cool,” she says. “Do you know any people in the industry?”

She pushes your legs a little further apart and your eyes widen. _What the hell._ You want to shove her away – you really do – but your body is feeling so hot that you can’t bring yourself to do it. Lauren dips her hand a little further between your legs and you bite your lip. As she runs her finger of the fabric of your shorts, you have to press your lips together to keep yourself from moaning. _Damn it._ This is getting you worked up.

Ally’s still talking, very oblivious to the fact that Lauren’s now slowly rubbing circles over your center. You can feel yourself getting more turned on by the second. Jesus Christ. You bite down on the inside of your cheek. As if she knows it, Lauren presses down a little harder and you can’t suppress the small, throaty noise that leaves your mouth. For a split second, Ally looks at you, but then Lauren asks her another question and she happily continues talking.

Lauren increases her pace and _fucking hell_ – this can _not_ be happening right now.

Your muscles tense a little bit more. You have to stop. You have to tell her to stop, because if she continues what she’s doing, you soon won’t be able to keep quiet.

Then, Lauren lifts her hand and for a second you think she’s done messing with you. But instead, her fingers find their way under your shirt, softly tracing lines over your stomach, before hooking under the waistband of your shorts.

This is not happening—

“… and what does your family think about all this?” Lauren asks Ally, the very second her hand finds its way into your shorts.

Your eyes flutter shut for a second as a wave of heat rushes through your body. _For fuck’s sake_. You have to bite your lip from screaming as she lowers her fingers and starts drawing torturously slow circles over your panties.

“… but my dad thinks it’s a fantastic idea,” Ally says happily, who does not have the slightest clue what is happening right in front of her.

“That’s so great to hear!” Lauren speeds up her movements just the tiniest little bit and – _oh my God_ – you know exactly how this is going to end. You can already feel your muscles tensing up more and more by the second. Your breathing is slowly getting uneven.

“Mila, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Ally says abruptly, turning towards you.

Your eyes go wide.

“Are you going home to Miami during Christmas break?” She gives you a questioning look and you want to fucking _strangle_ Lauren in that moment because right as you’re about to answer, she pushes the fabric of your panties aside and runs her fingers right over you, feeling just how much her touch is affecting you.

“Y- _yes—_ ”

The rest of your answer dies on your lips and you swear you can hear Lauren take a sharp intake of breath next to you. Ally gives you a strange look, but then stands up as if nothing is happening.

“I’m going to get some more water. Can I get you guys anything?”

“ _No_ —” you say quickly.

“No, thanks,” Lauren says and her raspy voice shoots tension right to your core. _God damn it._ She’s enjoying this so fucking much. Right away, you decide you’ve had enough. You’re not going to give her what she wants. In one swift movement you grab a hold of her wrist under the table and pull her hand out of your shorts. Her eyes lock into yours, left eyebrow kinked up.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she says with a smile, in that husky tone that always heats up your skin all over. “It looked like you were enjoying that. It felt like that too, actually…”

“ _Fuck you_ ,” you whisper. “God – Lauren – you’re _so_ – I can’t even…”

Her hand falls onto your thigh and you can feel yourself all over your skin as she wipes her fingers clean, eyes locking hard into yours. _That’s it._ That look is all you needed. You are absolutely _done_ with her having all this power over you.

“Get up,” you snap at her.

“What are you—”

You almost push her off the bench. You’re frustrated beyond your limits. Your head is pounding and there’s a low drumming in your ears that you can’t get rid of. Your body is completely tense, and it’s all because of… _her._ She gives you a look, but all you do roughly grab hold of her wrist, pulling her with you towards the elevators.

“Camila—”

“You stop talking right now,” you cut her off, rather harshly, as you push the elevator button to go up to the seventh floor which is where your team is staying. “If you say one more thing, Lauren, I swear to God—”

The elevator shoots up, before you can wrap your mind around what you’re doing. You pull her after you, fingernails digging into the skin of her arm, through the corridor until you’re in front of your room. You fumble around with your key card, your fingers shaking, taking too long…

“Do you need help with that?” Lauren says, amused.

“I said _stop talking_ ,” you snap, just as the door clicks open.

“Why do I need to—”

It only takes you a second to pull her into the room, before you slam the door closed and push her back against it, kissing her hard. You catch her completely off guard, but you can’t stop, you _can’t stop damn it_ … She’s been driving you crazy for weeks, playing into your weaknesses, effortlessly working her way into all your sensitivity – and you’re done with it.

You lean back only for one second, just so you can pull her shirt over her head, before you kiss her again, opening your mouth to deepen it, not wasting a second before pressing your hands against her breasts. Her nipples harden through the fabric of her bra as she gasps and moans and _writhes_ under your palms. Good – she’s in for something. In another swift moment you pull her jeans off her legs, kissing and sucking and biting your way down her body until she’s standing in front of you in nothing but her black, lacy underwear, panting hard already, her lips full and red, nothing but _sex_ in her eyes. _Fucking hell._ You momentarily lose your focus, unable to stop looking at her body, but then Lauren pulls hard on your wrist until you’re back against her. You push your leg between her knees. Your hand finds its way around her right thigh, and you pull her leg up around your waist, pressing against her center, causing her to break the kiss to take a sharp intake of breath.

“Camila – fuck…” she swears.

“Yes,” you say, your breath raspy. “That’s exactly what we’re going to do.”

You bring your lips to the hollow of her throat and you trail hot kisses all the way down. She moans loudly against your shoulder before pulling on the hem of your shirt, bringing it up over your head. You can’t fight it so you let her take it off, but when she tries to switch positions, you shove her back against the door harshly. In case she forgets, _you_ are the one in charge.

You click her bra open in a second, almost ripping the fabric. You need more.

“God, that feels so good…” Lauren breathes as you lick your way around her nipple, before taking it into your mouth and sucking on it. “Oh – fuck!” she gasps. You do it again and again, running your tongue all over her to sooth her skin every time you suck on it. Your fingers tug her panties down and then you’re on your knees in front of her, kissing her inner thighs, sucking and biting on all the places where she’s always so goddamn sensitive.

“ _Camila_ …” The sound of your name on her lips is all you need. Without wasting another second you put your mouth on her and taste her. The sound she makes as you tongue hits her center is enough to make you burst out of your skin. God, she’s so fucking wet.

She runs her fingers through your hair. “Oh my God, baby _…_ ”

She doesn’t seem to realize that she’s said it, but the word sends an entire new wave of emotion to your core. You pull her even closer to you, watching her bite her lip and letting her head fall back against the door as you continue working her up.

“Oh fuck…” she whispers as you speed up your movements. You know she’s close. “Camila, _oh my God_.” She moans loudly as you press harder against her. “Fuck, I think I’m – damn it – _Camila,_ I’m going to—” The word dies on her lips as her entire body tenses before she falls apart against you. Her hands are still in your hair. Her legs are shaking. You get to your feet. The look in her eyes is making your head spin.

“ _Jesus Christ_ ,” she says. “That was—”

“You think I’m done?” you interrupt her before she can finish her sense.

Her eyes darken. God. She’s _so_ completely naked in front of you. You can’t stop looking at her. Her hair is such a mess and her lips are swollen and she’s got your marks all over her skin and you almost give in – all you want is her naked body on top of you giving you everything – but you’ve got to make your point. You’re not done with her yet.        

“Get on the bed,” you say. Her mouth parts at the dominance in your voice. She bites her lip hard. You tear your eyes away from her face, pulling her after you into the room. Then, you’re on the bed together and she’s all over you – kissing your neck and pulling on your shorts – and you know what she wants but you’re not letting it happen. Instead, you shove her off of you, pushing her back until she’s sprawled out right in front of you. You swallow hard at the sight of her.

“Turn around,” you say, your voice barely a whisper. “On your knees with your face down.”

She challenges your stare, not moving at all, but you’re impatient, so you harshly pull her hips from the mattress and flip her over. Lauren moans. “Oh my God, what are you—”

You bring your hand up to the nape of her neck and tug on her hair at the same time that you slide two fingers inside of her. She almost comes undone for the second time right there and then, moaning at every single movement that you make. You let your hand fall down, using it instead to play with her nipples while you press yourself against her even harder, quickly increasing the pace of your movements.

“ _Jesus_ ,” Lauren swears, unable to control her moaning and swearing. Fuck. It feels so good to touch her like this. You can’t stop. You think that all you ever want to do from now on is take her into your bed like this.

You increase the speed of your fingers even more and you can feel her tense up. “Camila…” She collapses onto the mattress, completely giving herself to you now. “Don’t stop,” she moans. “Don’t stop, _fuck,_ don’t stop, don’t—”

Her second orgasm hits even harder than the first. She falls apart around your fingers completely, shaking and panting and pulling you into her as much as she can.

“Oh my God…” she says, her voice hoarse.

She’s completely undone now, lying on her stomach on the bed, her chest heaving up and down with every single breath. Your own body feels like it’s on fire. God. This was – this was –

Your mind is not even able to form a coherent thought. Instead, you get off the bed and take your shirt from the floor. Lauren’s eyes lock into yours.

“What are you—”

Your skin is burning, your hair is a mess, your tongue still tastes like her. You pull your shirt over your head and walk out of the hotel room, leaving her behind without saying another word.


	6. 5

XIII.

She knocks on your door in the middle of the night. You try to ignore the way your your heart speeds up at the sound.

(You also try to ignore the fact that maybe you were waiting for her, that maybe you spent a little too much time getting ‘ready for bed’, that maybe you’re wearing your red lingerie completely and _only_ for her.)

She’s soft with you.

As you open the door, she’s in nothing but a black, silky bathrobe – her long dark hair falling in tangles down her back, green eyes a little hazy in the half-lit bedroom light. She steps forward, closes the door behind her and then cups your face in her hands, pulling you into her, kissing you slow and long. Her fingers drift to the nape of your neck, sending shivers all the way down your spine. You feel breathless right away. You don’t think she’s ever kissed you like this before.

“Hey,” she breathes out, as she pulls away for just a moment.

Before you can answer, her mouth is already on yours again as she softly pushes you back in the direction of the bed, making you tumble back onto the mattress. For a moment, she just keeps standing in front of the bed, looking at you. There is something in her eyes that you’ve never seen before. She slides the bathrobe down onto the ground – making your throat go dry at the sight – and then she climbs on top of you.

She’s soft with you – stroking your skin with the lightest touches, kissing you long and deep and hotly, pulling you so close to her naked body that you swear you can feel her heartbeat. Time slows as she dips her face into the crook of your neck and licks all the way down to your breast, before moving up again, doing it over and over until your mind clouds. Her fingers trace over your thighs, your hips, your stomach—

You can’t handle it.

It feels so different, so new, so heated, so fucking _soft_ – you feel like you can’t breathe.

“ _Lauren_ …”

You try to speed things up. You pull her harder against you, grinding your hips roughly into her body. You want her to tear your panties off, you want her to just _fuck_ you already, because this – whatever the hell it is – is making your heart race in a way you’ve never experienced before. You need it faster and harder and quicker and _less_ soft _._ You need her to speed things up, not because of the tension that is already rapidly building inside of you, but because it’s just too much _._

You’re feeling too much.

She’s not letting you, though. She keeps pushing your hands back from her body, keeps intertwining your fingers while she’s kissing you, keeps taking her time. All you register is heat and shivers and goddamn frustrating, delicious hot tension between your bodies. It makes you feel entirely conflicted – you want her to speed up but at the same time the intensity is taking over all your thoughts and senses. You’re hot all over, moaning into her skin with every single thing she does.

She slowly unclasps your bra and you gasp as heated waves start rushing through your body; everything trembles at the sensation of her naked skin against yours. Your nipples harden. She looks at you then – the green so intense – and for a second you think she breathes the word _beautiful_ into your neck, but before it fully registers, her mouth falls around your nipple and you can’t think straight anymore.

She brings her leg up, between yours, and it feels like she’s touching you _everywhere_ , all at once.

“Laur—” you gasp. “I need – I want…”

You don’t even know what you want at this point. But Lauren knows – she always knows.

Her fingers hook around your panties and she kisses you deeply, slowly pulling them down. Her hand finds its way around your thigh, and she brings your leg up, wrapping it around her own – and then she’s writhing against you and you know that you’ve never been _this_ turned on in your entire life. She inhales sharply at the sensation, cheeks flushing red, eyes so goddamn captivating—

Your hands are clawing at the sheets as she moves against you, first with her leg, then with her mouth – making you choke out an endless string of profanities – and finally with her fingers, and you moan louder than you’ve ever moaned before.

She’s soft with you.

She moves in slow strokes, hitting your spot over and over again, dragging it out, really letting you _feel_ it, while she keeps placing hot kisses all over your throat. You’re so tight around her fingers and your body is so feverishly hot under hers and you don’t want her to stop, you don’t ever want her to stop, but your thighs are trembling and you’re so close, you’re so _fucking_ close and you can’t hold it off, you can’t—

“Laur,” you gasp. “Lauren, I’m— I think I’m – I’m going to—”

Her lips fall against your ear. “I know, baby. Come for me.”

The way she says _baby_ rips right through you. You cry out as your orgasm rushes through your body and your throat tightens and tears are burning behind your eyes and the shaky waves just keep coming and coming and coming—

She kisses you then, falling into your body, softly tugging on your bottom lip so you can taste yourself on your tongue.

You’re shaking all over. It’s never felt like this. You’re so overwhelmed that you’re crying, but you don’t want her to know so you just pull her face down against your shoulder while you try to stop the tears from running down your cheeks, while you try to slow your breathing. Her body is warm against you, her chest heaving up with every breathe she takes.

You don’t know how much time passes, but at some point the sweat dries on your skin and you get goosebumps all over. Lauren kisses the soft spot beneath your ear, pressing her lips into you so sweetly that it makes your throat tighten up again, before softly whispering, “Sorry – just give me a sec…”

She rolls off of you and the sudden absence of her heated body against yours makes your eyes shoot open in panic. But she doesn’t leave. Instead, she crawls to the side, picks the duvet, which you apparently kicked off the bed at some point, off the floor, and then she’s right back against you, pulling the covers over the both of you, before letting herself fall into your body again.

She kisses your shoulder, wrapping her arm over your waist, letting her legs tangle with yours. She doesn’t say anything and neither do you. You just lay there, in silence, for minutes on end, breathing into each other, while the exhaustion starts to fall over you. Lauren mumbles something that you don’t quite catch and then she brushes her lips against yours one more time, before closing her eyes and letting her face fall in the space between your shoulder and your neck.

You don’t even know what to feel anymore. All you know is that you’re so fucking relieved she isn’t leaving you alone right now.

Somewhere in the back of your mind there’s a small voice telling you to be careful, telling you that this is not what should be happening. 

But as your breathing slows and your eyes fall closed, all you can think of is how good it feels to have her naked body in your arms – and reality is something you will deal with tomorrow.

XIV.

You wake up and she’s gone.

Right away, you know that you shouldn’t have done what you did last night. It was _too much –_ for both of you – you should have known. You wrap the covers closer around you, trying to stop yourself from shivering as the memories come rushing back to you. Her soft touches and her eyes and the way she said you were beautiful. You’re not even awake for two minutes and your breath is already shaking.

_Fuck – what were you thinking?_

You jump out of the bed, because her scent is still all over your pillows and you can’t handle it. You force yourself to get your thoughts straight. A shower, breakfast, and then hockey practice – that’s the schedule. That is what you should be doing.

But you feel like running.

You feel like running until your mind clears out any vision of her gorgeous eyes and her sweet smile and her voice, whispering in your ear, making you tumble right over the edge as you—

You pour yourself a large glass of water, before putting on a sports bra and a pair of shorts. Then you make your way outside, not bothering to have breakfast first. You need to clear your mind. On your way to the fields, you make sure to stretch a little bit and do some warm up exercises, but you feel like you’re going to burst out of your skin if you don’t start sprinting soon, so with your music already blasting loudly in your ears, you speed up, turning the corner onto the field and—

—there she is.

_Of course._

She’s running laps, moving along the field lines at the fastest pace she can manage.

You swallow hard because you always forget that in some ways you and Lauren are more alike than you are different.

For a moment, you consider turning back around and going up to your room to waiting it out until your official practice begins, but _damn it,_ you tell yourself, you have to step it up. You wanted to go running and so you’ll go running – no matter the distraction. What happened between you and Lauren last night was exactly what always happens between you, so there’s no reason for you to feel upset right now. It was just sex.

You take off.

You’re not sure whether she has noticed you yet, but you quickly increase your speed, trying to gain distance on her. It works to your advantage that she’s clearly been going at it for at least half an hour already, because she looks dead exhausted. Soon, you’re running by her side. Even if she has noticed you, she is not showing it.

“Hey,” you say, because you feel like you have to.

She doesn’t look up, just tries to increase her speed. Something starts burning in your chest – it’s slow at first but increases with every passing minute. You know she’s got every single right to ignore you, because it was _just sex_ , but it still stings. You force yourself not to think too much of it.

But then she speeds up, again, running away from you.

It’s like she’s physically pushed you backwards. For a moment you fall back, but then you grit your teeth and ball your fists. You can feel yourself getting a little angrier with her at every stride you take, angrier with yourself for allowing the way she’s treating you to get to you in the first place. She speeds up even more, trying to get away from you. Her breathing is ragged, her hair is a mess and it’s like she’s on fire _._ She’s all hard stares and rigged edges – there’s nothing soft about her now, she’s _nothing_ like last night.

“Hey,” you say again, because this side of her – the side you can never seem to figure out – is putting so much pressure on your chest that you can hardly breathe. “Are you ok?” You put your hand on her arm. “Lauren—”

“Don’t touch me.”

She comes to an abrupt halt, slamming your hand away as if it’s burned her. Your knees buckle as you stop dead in your tracks.

“What the fuck is your problem,” she snaps.

“Excuse me—” you stammer.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” she bites out.

You feel paralyzed. “Lauren, what are you talking about – I’m just – I didn’t realize…”

“I should have known,” she snarls, letting out a high-pitched laugh. “Jesus Christ, I should have known that you would start thinking that any of this actually means something.” She steps right up in your face, making you back up, almost tripping over your own feet. “Guess what, Camila?” Her voice is harsh and cold. “It doesn’t.”

It hits you harder than expected. Your stomach tightens and your hands start sweating and for some reason you can feel irrational, _stupid_ tears start to burn behind your eyes, because she’s right and you should have known, you should have known that last night was a bad idea, and you allowed yourself to get caught up in it anyway. You swallow hard, forcing them back.

“I know,” you say then, “I’m not trying to – Fuck, I _know_ it doesn’t mean anything.”

There’s a shrill edge to your voice and for a moment something shifts in her expression at your confirmation, but then she’s right up in your face again, as she snarls, “Stop fucking stalking me, then.”

“I’m not—” You don’t even know what is happening. “That’s not – I just wanted to ask if you were ok. With everything that’s been going on, it just seemed like—”

“It’s none of your fucking business,” she exclaims. “I’m not your girlfriend!”

“Lauren, that’s not—” Your voice is high-pitched. Anger is burning in your chest, flooding through your veins. “I _know_ that. God – you’re being ridiculous. I’m just trying to talk. It doesn’t mean—”

She looks you right in the eyes. “You’re nothing but a game to me.”  

It feels like she’s slapped you in the face. Your entire body stings. Your chest heaves up and down and your mind spins and all you want is to go back to last night when she called you _baby_ and it actually made you feel like you were worthy of her lips all over your body. Her words keep hitting you in your mind, over and over again as you just stand in front of her and she looks at you like you’re not even worth a split second of her attention.

_You’re nothing but a game to me._

Your stare hardens as you let out a raspy noise that may come off as a laugh, though you don’t manage to convince yourself.

“Fuck you, Lauren,” you say, then. “Have fun playing that game all by yourself.”

And then you run off.

(Maybe if you just keep running, you will never have to look back at her again)

XV.

No one notices.

For the rest of the time, you do everything exactly like you’re supposed to – all the push-ups and the bleacher sprints and the shoot-outs and the long-distance shots and the jumping jacks. You laugh with Dinah and discuss your favorite field hockey players with Normani and you even let Ally tell you how proud she is of the way you’re handling being a team captain, even though all you can think is _you have no idea_. Your follow Coach Martin’s every direction, and every single shot you take is perfect.

No one notices.

Somehow, you manage to get away with the fact that you don’t serve Lauren a single ball during the entire training weekend, focusing entirely on Normani as your left wing. You get away with not even looking at her, paying so much attention to your best friends that they don’t have time to question you about it. You get so good at not giving a single fuck about everything that you even manage to convince yourself.

You throw up after practice on Sunday evening, though, which is why you’re not able to go to the swimming pool party. Ally puts you to bed, asking you if you’re going to be ok so many times that you have to push her out of your room at some point. You tell her that it must have been something with the food. You tell yourself that too.

The next morning, Lauren shows up to breakfast wearing Cameron’s tank top, hair a tousled mess, new hickeys on her throat that you sure as hell didn’t make.

You catch her eyes, then, and she actually smiles.

_You’re nothing but a game to me._   

A few days later, Dinah makes you go to a friend’s party with her. After too many drinks and too much flirting, you end up in bed with a pretty girl from the softball team. You sleep with her for three nights in a row, because you don’t _care_ about anything anymore. You don’t care – so when she asks if she can come and watch you play your game on Saturday, you decide to bring her along.

You make sure that everyone is watching when you kiss the girl against the locker room door right after you win. 

If Lauren wants to play with you, she can have her fucking game.  

XVI.

It takes two and a half weeks, and then she breaks.   

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Lauren lashes out at you, cornering you at the far end of the field, when you once again don’t serve the ball to her, even though she’s in perfect position to score.

You raise your eyebrows. “Something wrong, Jauregui?”

“Yes,” she snarls. “You’re denying me the ball.”

“Am I?” you say, leaning on your stick. “Well, maybe I’m just making sure we don’t lose the game on Saturday.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she snaps. “You _know_ how good I am. It’s fucking ridiculous that you’re not even giving me a fair chance to play.”

“Hm...” you interrupt her. “Considering the fact that you’ve barely been able to hold the ball lately, it’s actually not.”

Her eyes go wide. “That’s because you refuse to _pass_ me the ball, you _fucking_ —”

“Watch where you’re going with that,” you say, cutting her off again as you get up right in her face. “Don’t forget that I can get you suspended in a second.”

She’s breathing heavily now. “There are scouts coming on Saturday, you have to let me train. My scholarship—”

“I don’t _have_ to anything for you, Lauren,” you say, a raw edge to your voice. She’s hitting a nerve that you’ve been trying not to think about for the last two weeks. “If you’re not playing well enough, I’m not going to serve you the ball – it’s as simple as that.”      

She glares at you, then. She’s so close to you that it feels like her anger is radiating off of her, right into your body. It’s frustratingly difficult not to be affected by her stupid green eyes.

Her voice is low and sharp when she says, “Does your little softball slut not know how to make you come, or something? Is that why you’re being such a fucking bitch right now?”

It’s a low blow – even for her. Still, you can’t force yourself to rise above it.

“What did Cameron think of all the hickeys on your thighs?” you bite at her. “Does she even know you like it rough?”

Her eyes go wide.

“Thought so,” you say. “Get back to your position, Jauregui, and stop wasting my fucking time, before I do decide to have a little chat with our coach.”

Lauren slams her hockey stick against the ground, only barely missing your ankle.  

Coach Martin whistles loudly. “Is there a problem, ladies?”

“Not at all!” you yell back at him, turning around and running back to the other girls, before he comes up and breaks you and Lauren apart.

You manage to ignore her for the remaining hour of practice. You don’t pass her the ball even once.

Coach Martin hasn’t even signaled the end of the session yet, but Lauren’s already in the locker room, grabbing her bag. Without giving you or the rest of the team another glance, she takes off running.

You shower longer than you need to. You feel tired and raw. You feel like drowning yourself, just so you don’t need to deal with your own thoughts anymore.  

Ally gives you a ride home.

“Mila,” she says, right before you get out of the car. “What is going on with you and Lauren?”

There’s no tease to her voice. She just asks it straight up, the way only Ally can ask you certain things, like she honestly, genuinely, wants to know.

You shake your head and bite your lip.

“I don’t even know anymore,” you answer honestly, and Ally nods.

“If you want to talk about it…”

She looks so sympathetic and you think that maybe you _can_ tell her. Maybe you can tell her about everything.

“Ally, we… we—”

Your phone starts ringing. You don’t recognize the number, so you stare at it, waiting for it to fall flat, but your phone just keeps on ringing. Ally stares at it, too and nods as though to say _you can pick it up if you want._

You pick up. “Hello?”

“Hello?”

It’s a boy’s voice. His breathing is ragged, his sentences rushed and stammered. “I’m sorry to bother you – I’m – My name is Chris – Chris Jauregui. I’m – I’m Lauren’s brother and she’s on the hockey team with you, I think? I don’t know. I looked in her phone and it’s one of the first contacts I saw, so I thought – I don’t know what to do but I thought maybe you know what happened—”

Ice cold tension flushes through your chest at the panic in his voice. “You’re Lauren’s brother?”

“Yes,” he breathes. “I don’t know what to do – she… Lauren, she…”

“What is it?” you say, even though you already know. There’s only one thing that can cause someone to act like this.

Your heart is racing and you’re hands are trembling and Chris chokes out _Lauren is in the hospital_ and it feels like everything comes crashing down on top of you at once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> Hey everyone,
> 
> Thank you all for reading! :) Let me know what you think! I wanted to put this chapter out before Christmas, because updating will probably be a little difficult the coming days. So, just so you know, it might take a while until I can upload the next chapter. 
> 
> I hope you all have lovely holidays!   
> \- Blake


	7. 6

XVII.      

On the way to the hospital, you’re shaking so much that Ally holds your sweaty hand in hers the entire time, even though she’s driving.

You tell her everything – in between sobs and gasps – and she just listens. You tell her about the first training weekend, how Lauren had been messing with your head for days and you just couldn’t stop yourself anymore when you kissed her. You tell her about the locker room showers, about what happened when you stayed behind to wait for her after the game. You tell her about everything that happened after that, too; all the different ways that Lauren has kissed you; all the smiles and the staring; how you sometimes feel like you can’t breathe when you’re around her. You tell Ally about sleeping with Lauren, how she came to you in the middle of the night and touched you in a way that had you feeling more than you’d ever felt in your entire life, and then, how she left you in the morning and told you it was all a game to her and hooked up with Cameron the night after – and now _this._  

Ally just holds your hand and strokes your cheek and listens, because she is Ally and you feel even worse, because you always take her for granted even though you have not really been a best friend to her at all during the past months.

You arrive at the hospital before you can apologize for it.

Ally talks to someone at the desk who sends you up to the third floor, and you don’t know where to go, you don’t know which doctors to talk to, which direction to walk in, but then there’s a boy in front of you whose eyebrows are the same shade of dark as Lauren’s, and he comes up to you as soon as you walk through the door.

“Hey,” he says. “I’m Chris.”

“I’m Camila,” you say, trying to keep your voice from shaking. “I’m Lauren’s—” You want to say ‘friend’ but it stings too much because you’re _not_ , not even close, so you end up just shrugging and saying, “I’m on the team with her.”

Chris nods. “Sorry, we really – we just didn’t know what to do and they’re still in there doing check-ups on her and we thought maybe one of you would know what happened. Was she at the field hockey practice?”

You nod, but before you can say anything else a younger girl comes up to you, extending her hand to you as well. “Hi, I’m Taylor. I’m Lauren’s sister.”

You’re so overwhelmed by them, by _all of it_ – these are Lauren’s siblings, this is her family and you don’t know how to talk to them or what you’re supposed to do right now or why her parents aren’t here. You don’t know anything about Lauren at all, and the thought makes your throat so tight that you feel light-headed.

“Is there someone I can call for you?” Ally asks Chris.

He shakes his head. “No, we… well— we’re here by ourselves.”

Ally nods and doesn’t ask any further questions. Instead, she steps forward and wraps her arm around Taylor’s shoulder. “Don’t worry,” she says. “I’m sure everything is going to be all right. Your sister is in good hands here, you know that, right?”

Taylor’s face is extremely pale. Her bottom lip is bloody, because she’s biting down on it so hard. She’s got mascara stains on her cheeks.

“Do you want to go get some tea?” Ally asks her and you’re so unbelievably thankful that she’s here with you right now. You wouldn’t have known what to do if you’d been by yourself. “I saw that there’s a machine just around the corner.”

Taylor nods breathlessly.

“What happened?” you ask Chris, trying to keep your voice steady. “What did they say?”  

He tells you everything he knows. You hear the words but they don’t register. She was running, a car crashed into her, the driver called 911, they took her to the hospital, she probably has a concussion but they don’t know how bad it is yet, the doctors are still doing tests right now.

Your throat tightens even more. You don’t realize that you’re crying until Chris bravely steps forward and hugs you, pulling his arms around you as though you haven’t just met each other only two minutes ago.

“Mr. Jauregui?”

Chris abruptly breaks away to turn around to face the doctor that just appeared at the end of the corridor. “Yes?”

The man walks over to where you’re standing. Taylor and Ally appear around the corner again and Chris pulls Taylor forward, his eyes wide and panicked. “Is Lauren ok?”

The doctor nods affirmatively. “Your sister is going to be all right.”

You breathe your first breath in half an hour.

“She’s doing better than expected, actually,” the doctor continues. “She took a hard fall, but she isn’t severely injured. She does have a concussion and she’s going to have to stay the night for further testing, but she’s conscious and she seems to be doing all right. If you want to, you may see her now. They’ve moved her into room 316.”

You take a step back, because you’re sure this is a _family only_ kind of thing, but Chris already holds the door open for you and so you’ve got no choice but to follow the doctor into the corridor. You feel extremely dizzy. You keep a death grip on Ally’s hand, trying to steady yourself.

Taylor pushes the door to room 316 open and there she is – paler than you’ve ever seen her, a bloody cut on her forehead, scratches all over her arms, but awake and alive and _all right._

The tears are still streaming down your face.

You stay standing in the doorway, watching as Lauren hugs Taylor tightly and ruffles Chris’s hair and then pulls them both of them close to her at the same time, smiling, despite looking like every single part of her body is hurting. She notices Ally first and her eyes widen in shock.

“… I called them,” you hear Chris say, even though there’s a low drumming in your ears that makes it hard for you to focus. “I thought maybe they would know what had happened, Lo.”

The moment seems to still—

—and then Lauren’s gaze falls on you. Her mouth parts and she stares at you with something in her eyes that you can’t quite place. You’re just crying and crying and crying, staying exactly where you are, next to the door, unable to stop and not daring to take any step closer.

“Lo, are you all right?” Taylor chokes out and Lauren tears her gaze away from you to look back at her sister.

“Yeah, yeah…” she says, her voice hoarse and raspy. “Don’t worry about it, Tay. It’s just a small concussion. I’m going to be fine.”

“They were taking so long,” Taylor says, voice strangled. “I thought – I thought…”

“Hey,” Lauren says, grabbing her hand. “Look at me. I’m all right. Really.” She strokes Taylor’s tears away and you feel like your heart is breaking. “I’m going to be fine, I promise. I’m so happy to see you both.” 

She hugs her brother and sister again.

“Are you in a lot of pain?” Chris asks.

Lauren seems a little unsure how to answer that, but then she nods, slowly. “Yes, it hurts a little bit,” she manages to say, clearly trying not to let her voice waver. “But they’re taking good care of me here. I’m really ok, guys. Please don’t worry about it.”

They talk about what happened for a while and you just listen, trying not to pass out. Your chest feels so tight and you’re shaking all over. You still don’t dare to take any step closer. Everything that has happened between you and Lauren during the past months is flashing through your head. You feel so terrible that you can barely steady your breathing. 

“Lo, can I get you anything?” Ally, helpful as always, asks eventually and Lauren smiles at her thankfully.

“Maybe some water? Thanks, Ally.”

As Ally passes you, she squeezes your hand in comfort. “It’s going to be ok, Mila…” she whispers. “She’s ok. You’re ok. It’s all going to be ok.”

Just as she passes out of the door, the same doctor from before walks back into the room.

“Sorry for interrupting,” he says, “Miss Jauregui, may I just speak to your brother and sister for a short moment? Just some general questions, standard procedure.”

Lauren nods. “Of course, yes. Chris, Tay… I’ll see you in a bit, yeah?”

The doctor nods and holds the door open so that Chris and Taylor can walk out with him and then, all of a sudden, you’re alone with her.

She looks at you as silence falls over the room.

“Hey,” she says then, and her voice breaks on the word and you can’t help yourself.

“Lauren…”

“Come here,” she says and that is all you need. In a second, you’re next to her, grabbing her hand and bringing it up to your face.

“Oh my God,” you breathe out. “I thought – I didn’t know – _you scared me so fucking much_.”

You push her hand hard against your lips and kiss it, before you can stop yourself. Then, you do it again and then again and again and at some point tears are streaming down Lauren’s face as well and you don’t really know what happens, but one of you decides to close the distance and then your face is in the space between her neck and her shoulder and she’s breathing raspy breaths into your ear.

“I’m ok,” she says, voice trembling as she breathes into your skin, pulling you closer. “Camz, stop crying.”

“ _You_ stop crying,” you mumble and she laughs before groaning in pain.

You shoot right up again. “Fuck – I’m so sorry, you’re – I didn’t mean to hurt you.”   

She opens her mouth to say something else, but then the door swings open again and Ally walks in again, together with Chris and Taylor. You quickly let go of Lauren’s hand, run your sleeve over your eyes and take a couple of steps backwards. Everything is a little blurry. You all get to talk to Lauren for about ten more minutes, but then a nurse walks in and informs you that she needs to do some more tests on Lauren.

“Guys,” Lauren says, looking at you and Ally. “Would you mind driving my brother and sister home?”

“No!” Chris says right away.

“We’re going to stay here with you,” Taylor adds, but Lauren shakes her head.

“You’re going home,” she says, voice suddenly a little stern. “You need to have a good night’s sleep and then tomorrow you can come visit me first thing in the morning. You can skip school, how about that?” Chris and Taylor won’t have it. They keep protesting, until Lauren cuts them off by saying, rather harshly, “I’m the oldest, I decide.” 

You can’t help but wonder again where their parents are, why they’re in LA all by themselves. Ally seems to think along the same lines, giving you a look, but neither of you dares to question it.

Instead, Ally just says, “Come on, guys, I’ll drive you home. You get to pick the music.”

Chris scoffs, but Taylor kind of smiles at Ally, before taking a deep breath and leaning over to give Lauren a tight hug. “All right, then. Please call me if you want me to come over, even if it’s in the middle of the night,” she says and you can see Lauren swallow hard at that.

“Yeah,” she says, nodding. “Thanks, Tay. I will. I love you.”

Chris hugs her, too. “We’ll be back first thing tomorrow. Let me know if you… if you… Well, just be safe, ok?”

Lauren bites her lip. “I’m going to be fine, Chris. Love you.”

Ally leans over to give her a quick hug, too, and you can see Lauren whisper _thank you so much_ in Ally’s ear and Ally just says, “Hang in there, Jauregui. We can’t afford to lose the best player on the team.”

She smiles in your direction and you’re not even bothered by her teasing. It passes right over your head, because all you can see is the green of Lauren’s eyes as she locks her gaze into yours. You move a little closer to the bed, awkwardly, not really sure what you should do. It feels like everyone is staring at you, but Lauren just grabs your hand and interlaces your fingers with hers for a moment, and you swear you can feel your heart skip a beat.

“Thanks,” Lauren says. “For… For showing up, and— I’m – I’m…”

You know what she wants to say. You’ve wanted to say it to her before, too, right after you screwed up that game, and you didn’t. You couldn’t.

There is so much between the two of you that neither ever dares to say out loud.  

“… well, you know,” she says and you nod because you _do_ know. She runs her thumb over the inside of your palm and you quickly turn around before you do something stupid like lean down and kiss her.

You all drive in silence, safe for Chris’s directions to Ally as he leads the way to their house. They turn out to live on campus, in one of the larger university accommodations. 

Right before Ally turns up the driveway, she takes a deep breath and says it anyway, “Guys, are you sure that I shouldn’t call anyone? What about your parents?”

Chris and Taylor share a look. Then, Chris says slowly, “Better not. We don’t live with our parents, anymore.”

A heavy feeling rushes over you. If Ally’s shocked to hear it, she’s good at hiding it. “You just live with the three of you?”

Taylor nods and Chris looks down at his lap, not saying anything.

“Hey,” Ally says, “I’ll tell you what. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning right here and we can go over to the hospital to bring Lo some nice breakfast, all right? Do you have my number?”

She puts it in Taylor’s phone. Both siblings seem intensely relieved at the fact that she’s not asking any further questions.

“Thank you,” Chris says. “That’s really nice of you.”

Then, you all get out of the car and Taylor hugs you goodbye as if she’s known you for years and Chris is telling you _thank you_ over and over again, and then they’re off, disappearing into the large building.

“How are you feeling?” Ally asks you, as she drives the car off campus again. “Are you ok?”

You nod. “Yes. Thank you, Ally, for everything – I love you.”

She reaches out to grab your hand again, squeezing it. “Love you too, Mila.” For a moment she’s silent, but then she slowly adds, “So, shall I take you home or…”

She trails off and you look side-ways, feeling your heart start racing in your chest at what your best friend is not saying but is certainly implying. You don’t even have to answer; Ally is already turning the car back onto the highway, right in the direction of the hospital.

XVIII.

You have to be extremely persuasive, trying to convince the nurse you run into outside of room 316 to let you in, but eventually, after a lot of pleading, she does.

You slowly walk into the room, careful not to make any noise. There’s some light coming through a gap in the curtains. Lauren appears to be sleeping. As you make your way forward, you try to ignore the nerves in your stomach. You take a deep breath. It doesn’t have to mean anything, you tell yourself. You just want to be absolutely sure she’s ok. That’s all.

“Laur…” you whisper as you walk up to the bed.

She stirs, slowly opening her eyes.

“It’s me,” you say, before quickly adding. “I mean, it’s Camila. Sorry – I didn’t mean to bother you. I – well, I…”

You’re stammering. You feel like you have to explain yourself and you’re not making sense because _this_ – whatever is going on between the two of you – doesn’t make sense and it never does. As you stumble over your words, you swear at yourself internally; she has a freaking concussion, for God’s sake. You need to leave her alone. You need to just turn around and—

“Hey,” she says, her voice sleepy and hoarse. Then, she sits up a little, as if fact that you’re here suddenly hits her. She groans in pain at the abrupt movement. “Wait – what are you doing here? Are Chris and Taylor all right?”

“Yes,” you say quickly, “They’re fine. We took them home. They’re good, don’t worry. Ally’s going to drive them up here tomorrow morning again.”

“Oh, good.” She breathes out long and slowly. “That’s great.”

Silence falls between you. You stare at the floor and push your hands deeper into the pockets of your jacket because you don’t know what to do with them. You don’t even know what to say or where to look or _why you’re even_ —

“So…” Lauren says, sounding a little unsure. “W-what are you doing here, exactly?”

It’s an obvious question. You bite your lip and you hope that she won’t be able to see your blush in the dark. “Oh – I’ll leave again soon. I just – I just wanted to make sure you were really ok. That’s all.”

“Oh,” she says. “Ok.”

You run a hand through your hair, not really sure how to fill the silence. Then Lauren’s voice comes through the darkness, as she says, a little raspy, “Or, maybe, you know – you could… stay.”

“Right,” you mumble. “Yeah, I mean – if… I guess, I… could.”

Your cheeks feel so hot. The entire conversation is beyond awkward at this point. Her eyes are open now and you can feel that she’s looking at you, despite the darkness. You don’t dare to move.

Then, Lauren softly chuckles. “Well, are you going to keep standing there all night or are you going to get into bed with me?”

You bite down on your lip hard, because even with a freaking concussion she still manages to have that edge to her voice that always draws you in, no matter how much your force yourself not to be affected by it.

“Yeah,” you mumble. “I was – I already – just give me a second.”

You kick off your shoes and throw your jacket on one of the chairs, and then you slowly move the covers aside and climb into the bed. You lay down on your back, making sure to stay to the side, staring up at the ceiling, not touching her at all.

Lauren scoffs a little, “Way to keep an entire ocean between us, Camz…”

You purse your lips because _damn it_ – did that concussion amplify her sense for sarcasm, or what?

“Well,” you mumble back. “You have a concussion and you need to rest, so what do you want me to do?”

You can hear her laugh softly in the dark. Then, she says, “You’re a smart girl, I’m sure you can figure it out.”

You’re so glad that it’s dark all around you, because your face must be so freaking red right now. You’re actually surprised she hasn’t called you out on the fact that heat must be burning straight off your body into hers.

“I don’t think—” you mumble, staying exactly where you are on the mattress. “I actually – Well, I mean, there’s no… It doesn’t seem like—”

Then, Lauren shifts until her face is right next to yours, her breath close to your ear as she whispers, “I always have to be so goddamn obvious with you, don’t I?” She traces the tip of her finger over your arm, causing a hot shiver to run down your back. “ _This_ is what I want you to do.”

She slides closer to you under the covers, before pulling your arm right over her waist, pressing you against her, into her side, so that you end up with your face in the crook of her neck and your leg tangled over hers. Another shiver runs down your spine at the sudden contact.

“You sure?” you say. “It doesn’t hurt? I mean – is this all right? With all your bruises, I don’t want to—”

“ _Camila_ …” Lauren mutters in your ear and it hits you hard how much you’ve missed hearing your name on her lips. “I’m fine. Stop rambling.”

You abruptly shut your mouth only to hear Lauren mumble something that sounds a lot like _even though it’s kind of cute_ which makes you blush even harder.

“Ok,” you breathe out.

“Ok,” she whispers back.

It takes a while, but as the silence falls over the room again, you feel yourself slowly starting to relax into her arms. She traces soft circles into your skin until your breathing is completely in-sync with hers and sleep begins to fall over you. At some point, right before you drift off, you think you feel her lips brush softly against yours for the briefest moment, but you’re so sleepy that it you barely realize it for what it is, for what it means.


	8. 7

XIX.

“—what does she think she’s doing—”

“—shh, you’ll wake them up, you idiot—”

“—that’s our _sister_ , Tay—”

“—I’m not blind—”

“—they’re in bed together! What the hell is that even supposed to mean—”

“— _Chris_ , stop being such a child—”

You wake up with your face still pressed into Lauren’s neck and her warm hands under your shirt, softly running over the bare skin of your back. For a moment, you sink into her, ignoring the whispers that have jolted you awake. But then you realize where you are, what you’re doing, _who_ you’re sleeping next to and as soon as it hits you, the panic starts flooding through your body. You stir and quickly try to roll out of her arms. What are you doing? _Why the hell are you in bed with her?_

Lauren groans and doesn’t let go of you, pressing her fingers into your skin in a way that makes you shiver.

“Hm,” she hums in your ear, still half asleep. “ _Don’t_ …”

You have to get away from her. You have to get out of this bed _right now._

“Lauren,” you say, a heavy urgency to your voice.

“… but you’re soft,” she mumbles.

Ok, she is clearly still dreaming because she’d never _consciously_ say something like that to you—

“ _Ahem._ ”

Your eyes fly open. You know that cough. You’ve been subject to that cough one too many times before for you to be able to ignore it. It’s Ally’s excuse-me-what-the-hell-is-going-on-here-I-did-not-sign-up-for-this cough.

You shove Lauren’s hands away from your hips and jolt upwards, blinking hard against the bright light. You look around the room, pulling your shirt back down over your stomach before anyone sees. Chris and Taylor are standing at the end of the bed, looking down on you. Chris’s expression is a mix of confusion, anger and something else. He’s staring at you hard. Taylor’s hand is on her hips and she has one of her eyebrows raised in a way that reminds you way too much of Lauren. You blush feverishly. Right behind them, Ally is standing in the doorway with two big paper bags and a bunch of coffee cups.

She coughs again. “Good morning, Mila.”

“Good morning!” you say, jumping out of the bed, running a hand through your hair. “Hi, Chris. Taylor. Ally. How – how are you, what time is it, what’s in the bag, what, um, what time is it – how are you?”

Ally gives you a pointed look while Taylor’s eyebrow rises a little further. Chris makes a point of glaring at you, stepping forward.

“What exactly are your intentions with my sister?” he says, voice a little sharp.

Behind him, Taylor laughs and rolls her eyes. You take a sharp intake of breath, throwing Ally a panicked look. What are you supposed to answer to that? Your best friend just shrugs as though to say _I’m not the one in bed with Lauren_ which is kind of a fair point. 

“Um—” you stammer. “I don’t… have… any – I mean – _what_?”

Chris takes another step forward, but at that point, Lauren decides to join the conversation by waking up.

“Cut it out, Chris,” she groans, before her brother can continue his interrogation. She slowly sits up straight, thankfully averting her siblings’ attention from your blushing face.

Taylor walks over and gives Lauren hesitant a hug, careful not to hurt her, before sitting down on the bed next to her. “Hey, good morning. How are you feeling?”

“Honestly?” Lauren mumbles, rubbing her eyes. “I’ve been better.”

Chris’s expression flashes into concern right away. “Do you want me to call the doctor?”

“No, no,” Lauren says. “No – I mean – it hurts, but I’m fine. I just have a really bad headache, the last painkillers I took still need to kick in, I think… But I guess, considering the circumstances, I’ve had a pretty good night,” she adds, almost as an afterthought.

You feel your cheeks redden even more, so you quickly turn around, facing Ally. “What’s in the bags? Is it breakfast? Did you bring breakfast? What’s for breakfast?”

She stares at you.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom,” you say, abruptly moving past her and out of the room, before you can make an even bigger fool out of yourself.

You stay away for as long as you think is socially acceptable.

With shaking hands, you stare at your reflection in the mirror for a while; your hair is messy and you’ve got mascara stains under your eyes and your cheeks are flushed. You quickly splash some water in your face, trying to calm down your racing nerves. When you look up, you’re still blushing. What the hell – how could staying in Lauren’s bed have sounded like such a good idea last night? Now, you’ve got to deal with _that_ of that on top of everything else. Sighing hard, you dry your face, run a hand through your hair in a pathetic attempt to straighten it, and then make your way out of the bathroom again.

When you get back, Ally, Chris and Taylor are all sitting on Lauren’s bed, eating waffles and drinking coffee. They’re all engaged in conversation about something and for some reason you feel a little weird being there, so you hover around the door for a while. Lauren’s face has gotten a little flustered and she keeps avoiding your eyes, as if the reality of what happened last night has also caught up with her now. 

But then, Taylor gestures for you to come sit next to her on the empty spot on the bed, and Chris’s mood seems to have improved in the last ten minutes, so the tension in your stomach slowly starts to subside. You just watch everyone talk for a little while, taking bites from your waffle. It’s actually surprisingly nice to see Lauren interact with her siblings – there’s a side to it that you never really get to see from her, something light, something a little soft.

Your heart aches a little, because it makes you think of Sofi. God, you can’t wait to see her again at Christmas.

Then, Chris makes a joke about Taylor and his younger sister leans over to smack the back of his head, accidentally pushing his nose in the chocolate sauce on top of his waffle that he was just taking a bite off. Lauren laughs out loud, despite the pain, and Ally quickly reaches for the bag to find napkins, but can’t stop laughing either, and it’s like your whole chest swells up at once. While Taylor chokes out an apology between bursts of laughter and Ally quickly hands Chris the napkins, Lauren looks at you.

Your breath hitches in the back of your throat.

Her eyes are so green and she’s got a smile on her face, even though she’s got scratches and bruises all over, and she stares at you in a way that makes your stomach flip extremely hard. You feel yourself smiling back at her, completely outside of your control and you can’t take your eyes off of her, all you want to do is run your hand over her cheek and _look_ at her and—

You think of kissing her.

As soon as the thought crosses your mind, you push it back because it’s _ridiculous._ Lauren hates you. All you ever do is fight with each other. It’s not like things are any different now, even if you spent the night sleeping in each other’s arms – but the light feeling in your chest kind of lingers, though.     

Around lunch time, Lauren is released from the hospital. The doctors come up to do some final check-ups on her and it seems that everything is looking well enough for her to go home. She’ll have to take as much rest as she can and come back in a couple of days for another check-up, but if she takes it easy, she’ll be completely fine again in a matter of weeks.

No hockey, though.

At that, Lauren’s expression shifts and you suddenly feel your stomach clench again, because you know what it means to her. What it means to both of you.

“Hey,” you try to tell her, “I’ll go talk to Coach Martin. You just have to focus on getting better and them I’m sure—”

“You don’t understand,” she cuts you off rather harshly and it catches you completely off guard because in a split-second it feels like you’re right back on the field again, arguing and yelling at each other.

It stings – the way her glare goes hard and her eyes narrow at you and all these hard lines that she always pulls up around herself are blocking you again, keeping you out. There’s a small part inside of you that just wants to yell _then make me understand_ at her, but you don’t dare to go there.

_You’re nothing but a game to me._ How could you have forgotten?

Lauren’s silent on the ride from the hospital to her house. Ally’s making light conversation with Chris and Taylor, asking them which school they’re going to and if they’ve already got any holiday plans. Lauren just stares out of the window and doesn’t say a single word. You don’t know why exactly, but it’s getting on your nerves more than usual. She’s so hot and cold the whole time, shifting in and out of moods with no clear reason – it’s making you feel completely foolish and inept because you’ve got absolutely no idea how to behave around her and she refuses to let you know.

When Ally pulls up to the university accommodation, Taylor says, “Do you guys want to come up for lunch?”

Lauren throws her a look, but Taylor misses it.

“No, thank you,” Ally says right away, giving Taylor a sweet smile, “I’ve got class in an hour. Another time maybe, though.”

_Damn it._ It’s Thursday. You’ve also got class – in fact, you already missed all your classes this morning. You bite your lip, staring at Lauren. She refuses to meet your eyes once again and it completely pisses you off. What the fuck does she think she’s doing? You deserve at least _some_ kind of explanation, don’t you?

“I’d like some lunch,” you tell Taylor, before you can even really think about whether it’s a good idea to spend even _more_ time with Lauren now that you’re apparently back to your usual, harsh, non-communicative way of dealing with each other.

Lauren turns to look at you. “Don’t you have class?”

You stare back at her. “I don’t.”

Of course you do, but you’ve already missed most of it, anyway, so what’s the point?

She narrows her eyes. “What about hockey training? Don’t you have to prepare for that?”

You put your hand on your hip, challenging her. “Practice is not for another four hours. Besides, I’m team captain. I think I’ll know when to prepare what.”

“Oh, you’re team captain,” she mumbles under her breath. “Don’t I fucking know it…”

Taylor looks a little confused at your conversation. You don’t blame her. Then, Lauren rolls her eyes at you and turns around, unlocking the entrance door, not bothering to wait for you to follow her. You say a quick goodbye to Ally and then hurry after Taylor and Chris. You’ve got no idea what you’re doing, but it seems that there’s no way back now, because you’re already in the elevator, moving up to the fifth floor.

The apartment is small, but tidy. Lauren disappears into the bathroom as soon as you cross the doorstep, completely ignoring Taylor’s protests that she should be taking her rest. You shuffle on your feet a little awkwardly, until Chris moves into the kitchen to boil some water and Taylor tells you to take a seat on the couch.

By the looks of it, they’ve all got their own bedrooms, since there are three different doors besides the one leading to the bathroom. There are two couches and a couple of pillows on the floor to create some kind of seating area. Apart from that, the apartment feels very empty; just a wooden table with a couple of mismatched chairs around it and a tiny kitchen. They don’t really seem to have a lot of personal belongings.

Taylor is standing in front of the fridge, groaning.

“Hm…” she says. “When I said lunch, I actually thought we had something a little tastier to offer than this one tomato and this package of yoghurt that looks like it expired a month ago.” She looks at Chris, giving him an accusing look. “Chris, it was your turn to do groceries.”

He lifts his hands in defense. “Well, I’m sorry for having other things on my mind, Tay.”

She rolls her eyes and throws his jacket at him. “Go get them now.”

“No, I don’t want to—”

“Fine, then I’ll go get them—”

“Thank you.”

“—and all you will get for lunch is this lovely tomato and a nice bowl of sour yoghurt.”

“Ugh,” Chris groans. “Fine, I’ll go. But you have to come with.”

“That’s not the point of having a schedule, Chris.”

“I’m not going to carry all those bags by myself!”

“Then use the car!”

Chris throws his sister a look. “I would, except the tank is empty because you forgot to fuel up the last time you used it.”

Taylor groans. “Fine, I’ll come with.”

“Fine.”

“ _Fine!_ ”

“I already said fine!”

Both of them turn to you at the same time. You’re still on the couch, feeling half confused and half entertained at their conversation.

“We’ll be back,” Taylor says. “Just – make yourself at home, I guess. There’s tea in the cupboard above the stove. Sorry.”

“Thanks,” you tell them, but the pair is already out of the door and all of a sudden, you are left alone in an apartment that you’ve never been in before, feeling very self-conscious and out of place. Maybe some tea will calm your stupid nerves a bit.

Just as you’re pouring yourself a cup, Lauren walks out of the bathroom again. She stares at you and then at the empty apartment. “Where are Taylor and Chris?” 

“Um, they went out to get some lunch, I think,” you say.

“Oh.” Lauren stares at you, before turning around. “I’m going to bed. I’m feeling a little bit…”

“Wait,” you say, before you can stop yourself.

She doesn’t wait, just spins on her feet and starts walking in the direction of the door next to the bathroom. Just as she puts her hand on the handle, she stumbles. _Fuck._ In a second, her eyes go hazy, her face pales and she loses her balance—

You catch her just before she crashes to the floor. _Jesus Christ._ Your heart shoots up in your throat. “Fuck, Lauren.”

She blinks and mumbles, “… dizzy.”

“Oh my god.”

You feel panicked. Your mind is racing, trying to figure out what you should do.

“All right,” you tell her, pulling her up until she’s seated with her back against the wall. “Fuck, I – I’ll be back in a second. Stay here.”

You sprint back to the couch and grab your jacket. You frantically search the pockets until you’ve found what you’re looking for: raspberry bubblegum. Then you’re in front of Lauren again, getting on your knees, pulling the wrapper of the gum. “Here, take this. You need sugar.”

She does as you tell her. You watch her closely as she chews down on it.

“Thanks,” she says, after a couple of minutes, before taking the wrapper from you and spitting the gum back into it. “That kind of helped.”

You make her drink a glass of water as well and then you tell her, “I’m going to get you into bed, ok? Here, put your arm around my shoulder.”

She sighs, but puts her arm around you without saying anything else. You push the door to what you assume is her bedroom open, trying to support her weight as much as possible. It’s almost completely empty; just an old desk and a small double bed in front of the window. She’s got an enormous stack of books on her desk, though, and a couple of prints taped to the walls, but that’s it. You slowly walk her over to the bed and lay her down. You make sure to rearrange the pillows so her head is supported well enough.

“Are you ok?” you ask, because your heart is still beating like crazy.

She nods, looking very pale. “Yeah, just – can you please get me my sweats? They’re on the back of the chair. I don’t want to wear theses clothes anymore.”

“Yes, of course.”

You pull a crimson pair of sweatpants from the chair as well as a grey sweatshirt. When you turn back, she’s already pulled the shirt the hospital had provided her with over her head. Most of her hockey jersey was ruined in the crash. You gasp when your eyes fall onto the bare skin of her arms and stomach. “Oh my god, Laur—”

She’s got bruises and scratches all over. Some of them are bandaged, but other cuts are still bloody and raw.

“It’s nothing,” she starts, “You don’t have to—”

But you’re already out of the door and into the bathroom. You take the softest towel you can find and pour warm water over it. Then, you look around until you’ve found something which kind of looks like a first aid kit.

Lauren groans when you appear in the doorstep. “Stop being ridiculous, I’m not going to let you—”

“Shh,” you tell her, ignoring her protests. “Just let me have a look at it.”

She lets her head fall back in the pillows, eyes closed, painful scowl on her face. “Oh my god, this is so unnecessary, I’m not a child.”

“Then stop behaving like one,” you snap.

That shuts her up.

You sit down on the bed next to her and try not to let your hands shake when you press the towel against her skin to clean some of the dried blood away. She flinches a little but allows you to touch her. You disinfect the cuts, trying to do it as quickly as you can. She grits her teeth all the way through it. After you’ve taken care of the worst ones, you stare at the black material of her sports bra. “Um, do you want me to…”

She nods and you take a deep breath, before leaning forward and unclasping it. There’s nothing sexual about the movement. If anything, you can’t shake off the stinging feeling in your stomach and the nauseous, guilty waves that just keep rushing through your body as your eyes move over the bruises on her chest.

You find the sweatshirt behind you and pull it over her head, trying to block out the images that are flashing through your mind; the headlights of car, her head cracking on the curb, the ambulance, the hospital, Chris’s voice on the other side of the line as he tells you— 

Maybe if you hadn’t yelled at her so much during the training session. Maybe if you hadn’t pushed her so hard, maybe if you weren’t such an awful, jealous—

“Camz…”

You look up at her, only then realizing that there are hot, burning tears streaming down your face. She runs her hand over your cheek, brushing them away. Her eyes are so soft all of a sudden.

“Why are you crying?” she breathes out, her voice cracking a little bit.

“I don’t know—” you choke out. “I just feel so, I’m so…”

A cold wave of panic rushes through your body. You feel like throwing up. You move away from her touch, brushing the tears out of your eyes. “Sorry, I don’t know why I’m being like this. I’m just tired and you – I mean – you’re the one who needs… you’re the one who’s…”

Your vision blurs again and you blink hard, but you’re not able to stop yourself from crying.  _God – why are you so pathetic?_

Lauren cups your face in both her hands. “Hey,” she says. “Look at me.”

You can’t. It’s too much. You don’t want to look at her because you know that you’ll crack under her gaze, you know that you won’t be able to stop shaking if you give in to her stupid, gorgeous, captivating green eyes. Lauren scoots closer to you, stroking her fingers over your cheeks and down to your neck.

“Camz,” she says, “Baby, look at me.”

The word rips through you, because you’re not her _baby_ , you’re not anything to her, and yet—

“I’m sorry,” you choke out, shaking all over. “I screwed up everything. I’ve been so _awful_ to you and I didn’t listen at all and now you have a fucking concussion because of it and I can’t – I just – I don’t know what you’re doing to me and I need to know – I need to know something, because it’s messing with my head and you are so… you’re _so_ …”

She pulls you into her and you couldn’t fight her off even if you tried, because she’s Lauren and she’s all you’ve been thinking about for three fucking months already, even though you don’t know her at all, even though you don’t _mean_ anything to her and—

“Camila,” she breathes in your ear and you know that she’s crying too and you’re not able to get out another word and it’s exactly like it was in the hospital, except it’s not because you’re in her bed, in her home, against her and it’s still not enough, you need to know something, you just need something _more_.

You kiss her. Hot and fast and burning and—

—you break away from her not even two seconds later because _what the fuck is wrong with you_ , she’s got a fucking concussion and you can’t just go ahead and do things like that—

All you see is the green of her eyes, before she roughly grabs the collar of your shirt and pulls you against her, capturing your mouth with hers once again in the most heated kiss. All you feel is her tongue and her touch and her hands and just _her_ and then she breaks away again, groaning in pain.

“ _Damn it_ ,” she curses loudly, her voice cracking with a sob. “Why does my head hurt so fucking much?”

“Sorry,” you breathe. “God, Lauren, I’m so sorry, I – that was—”

“No,” she cuts you off, before you can finish your sentence. “Don’t you dare apologize for that.”

For a moment, all you do is stare at each other. You’re both breathing heavily, tears in your ears, cheeks heated as if you just played the most intense hockey game of your life. Lauren’s chest heaves up and down with every shaky breath she takes. She runs her tongue over her bottom lip, just looking at you and looking at you and looking at you—

You back up a little, but before you can even really move, Lauren chokes out, “Please don’t leave me now.”

She looks so vulnerable, so exhausted and tense.

You quickly move closer again. “I won’t,” you say, even though that was exactly what you were thinking of. “Laur, I’ll stay as long as you want me too, ok? I’m not going anywhere.”

She slowly nods, biting her lip. Then, she leans back into the pillows, closing her eyes as the expression on her face turns into a painful scowl. “It hurts so much. Everything hurts so much, my whole body _hurts_ …”

“I know,” you say, brushing her hair out of her face. “I know… Shall I make you some tea? Do you want to take another pain killer?”

She shakes her head. “Just stay with me.”

You nod. “Ok.”  

She pulls the covers up and shifts a little to the side, creating space for you. As you lie down next to her, she curls herself around you and buries her face in your neck right away – as if it’s the easiest thing, as if this is just something you do now. You keep stroking through her hair, trying your very best not to put too much pressure to her head.

“Camila?” she says, her voice a little small.

“Yes?” you breathe into her hair.

“I’ll –” she stammers. “I’ll tell you, ok? But… I’m too… it’s too much right now.”

You kiss her forehead, because you can’t help it. “Shh, it’s ok. Right now, all you’ve got to do is sleep…”

She’s silent, before saying. “Can you do that again please?”

Your breath hitches a little bit in your throat, before you bring your lips down to her skin again, kissing her softly for the second time. “This?”

She nods. “That.”

You do it again. And then again. You keep brushing your lips against her skin until she sinks into you and you can hear her breathing starting to slow down, and then, even when she’s already drifted off to sleep, you still keep kissing her – breathing all the feelings that you can’t ever talk about out loud into her skin, hoping she will somehow be able to hear them, anyway.    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> Thank you all so much for your nice comments and your kudos! Hope you liked this one :) Let me know your thoughts!
> 
> -Blake


	9. 8

XXI.

You feel completely disoriented when you wake up. There’s daylight everywhere, but you’re stomach growls in the most painful way and you don’t even know where you are or what time it is, or—

Your gaze falls on Lauren and everything that happened during the past twenty-four hours hits you with a shock. The accident, the hospital, waking up next to Lauren, breakfast with Taylor and Chris and Ally, no hockey, Lauren getting angry with you, that messy kiss, all your goddamn feelings that always get in the way of everything – and now you’re here.

She’s still sleeping, breathing heavily. For a moment you just look at her, at her twitching eyelashes and the bloody cut on her forehead and the way her lips are slightly parted.

A rush of guilt washes over you. Fucking hell – this is all your fault. She’s got that cut on her forehead because of _you_ , because you fucked up during practice _._ You feel very nauseous all of a sudden. Careful not to make any abrupt movements, you slowly move out from underneath Lauren’s arm until you’re out of the bed.

You pull your phone out of the pocket of your jacket and you gasp when you see that it’s almost 9 o’ clock at night. God – no wonder that your stomach is clenching in such a painful way. You’ve slept for hours and hours. Then your eyes fall onto all the notifications that you missed, all the missed calls and the new text messages.

_Oh my God._

You completely missed hockey practice.  

Your fingers shake a little as you unlock the screen to find a mess of texts that all carry more or less the same meaning.

_Mila, where are you? Is Lauren ok?_

_Cabello, why are you not at my practice? Is Jauregui all right? I’ve tried calling you. What is going on? Please call me back ASAP._

_Yo, Mila, where’s your sexy ass? In Lauren’s bed or something? ;)_

The last one is from Dinah, of course, and you almost throw your phone on the ground because of how accurate her guess is.  

You run a nervous hand through your hair, trying to keep it together, trying not to freak out while Lauren is still sleeping. Fuck – you haven’t missed a single training session this season. Why did you fall asleep? Why didn’t you put an alarm? Why didn’t you think to call your coach? What will he think, what if he will suspend you, what if—

You bite your lip hard and force yourself to slow down. Taking deep breaths, you stare at the messages on your phone.

It is going to be all right, you try to tell yourself. You didn’t just miss practice without any reason. In fact, you’ve got every right to be here, right?

Your eyes fall on Lauren again. Do you really though?

There’s a heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach that is getting increasingly worse with every breath you take. It’s guilt and panic and something else that you’ve been able to ignore pretty well for the last hours with everything that’s been going on, but it’s rapidly coming back to you now, forcing its way under your skin, falling over you like the heaviest shadow. It’s the ice cold realization that this is _Lauren_ and sure, you may have had a _thing_ , but it doesn’t mean that you are all of a sudden of any importance to her, it doesn’t mean she wants you around, it doesn’t mean you have any right to be here. 

_Nothing but a game._

God – the only reason that she’s probably put up with you being here in her fucking bedroom, is that her concussion must have clouded her sense of judgement.

You need to leave right now.

You put your jacket on and get to your feet, opening the door and walking out, without looking back at Lauren’s sleeping frame—

—you crash right into someone.

 “Oh!” Taylor exclaims. “Sorry! I was just—”

“Sorry!” you say at the same time. “I wasn’t looking.”

There’s a bit of an awkward pause as Taylor steps back and you do too and you bump into the door, which makes you groan in pain, and then you just both look at each other and Taylor starts laughing. You’re still kind of hurt and panicked and freaked out, but her laugh snaps through the tension, so you kind of smile, too, and then—

“Hey.”

You both turn around at the same time. Lauren’s looking at you through half-opened eyes as she groans and sits up a little straighter.

Taylor’s smile widens. “Lo, you’re up. How are you feeling? I got us pizzas.”

“I’m all right,” Lauren says. “Pretty hungry, so pizza sounds really good – wait, are you leaving?”

Her eyes fall on you.

“Um – well, I don’t really—” you start. You’re a little taken aback because you didn’t think you’d have to explain yourself, so you kind of stammer, not really making any sense. “I missed hockey practice, so I should probably call Coach Martin, because I didn’t think to – and you’re… well, you need to rest, so, I – well, I really need to—”

Taylor cuts you off. “Have some pizza before you freak out.”

You stare at her and she just shrugs with a smile. “Pizza is always the answer.” 

You turn back to look at Lauren, only to find her staring right into your eyes. Her face is completely unreadable. You shift a little uncomfortably. The air between you is tense. There’s a small part of you that just wants to ask her straight up – _do you want me to stay?_ – but you’re too scared to do it, because it would mean acknowledging that you want to do things for _her_ , that you actually care about how she feels, and that’s just too much. You’re not sure you want to go there, because she isn’t giving you anything right now. No indication at all of what she’s feeling and it’s just making your head spin and your palms sweat and you feel absolutely ridiculous.  

Then, Lauren gets up out of bed and says, “I’m going to take a shower.” 

She just leaves you standing there and passes by you without saying another word. Taylor quickly runs after her. “Are you sure you’re ok? Are you sure it’s safe to—”

The bathroom door slams closed.

Taylor turns back to you, taking a deep breath and shaking her head. “Unbelievable. Well – do you want some pizza?”

You feel a little faint. There is so much tension in your body that you feel like you’re not able to breathe properly. You stare at your phone and you immediately feel tired again even though you slept for half of the day. Your stomach clenches again.

“I need to call my coach,” you tell Taylor, before taking a deep breath. “But pizza sounds really good, to be honest.”

You hear yourself saying it before you’ve even properly made your mind up about it.

Taylor smiles and turns around. “Great!”

She shifts a little and then adds, “Hey – don’t mind Lo, ok? She’s just a grumpy, little bitch sometimes when she doesn’t know how to express her feelings.” Your eyes go wide at the blunt statement, but before you can even say anything, Taylor says, “She likes having you here, I can tell. She’s just stubborn about saying those kind of things out loud.” 

After that, she disappears into the kitchen and you just stand in the doorway to Lauren’s room staring at your feet. It takes you a while to get your thoughts together well enough to call Coach Martin. Even when you dial the number, your mind is somewhere else.

XXII.

You’re on the couch eating pizza with Taylor when Lauren steps out of the bathroom fifteen minutes later, hair still wet from the shower, dressed in a long tank top and her red sweatpants. Her eyes fall on you and for a small moment, she smiles.

“You’re still here,” she says.

You don’t take your eyes off hers when you say, “Free pizza, so…”

A smile tugs at the corner of her lips. It’s not much, the tension between you doesn’t fade away instantly, but it’s something. Something softer than before. 

She walks over to the couch and takes the seat to you, taking a slice of pizza out of the box. “Where’s Chris?”

“Working,” Taylor says. “He couldn’t find anyone to cover for him. He said to tell you he’s sorry.”

Lauren groans in annoyance. “The two of you don’t need to babysit me, all right? I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. You don’t need to cancel any plans or find someone to cover for you at work. None of you have to take care of me.”

For a moment, it seems as though her eyes flick in your direction, which you try to ignore to the best of your abilities.

“Well, suck it up, because that is what we’re going to do.” Taylor smiles and takes another big bite of her pizza, before coughing loudly and giving Lauren a very obvious look. 

Lauren frowns and then looks at you, kind of shrugging a little before awkwardly mumbling, “Sorry that you had to miss practice.”

Taylor rolls her eyes as if Lauren’s completely missed her point, but she doesn’t say anything.

Your eyes go back and forth between the two of them, before you put your plate down and turn sideways to look at Lauren. “It’s ok,” you tell her. “Don’t worry about it. You really needed to rest and I just…” You trail off, before quickly adding, “It’s all ok. Please don’t worry about it.”  

Your eyes trace over her face. She looks so extremely pale, and the cut on her forehead is really red and kind of raw looking, probably because of the shower. You feel even more stupid about making such a big deal out of missing practice. She’s walking around with a freaking concussion…

“How are you feeling?”

Lauren bites her lip, not looking away from your face as she says, “It really fucking hurts.”

You can’t help but let out a shaky breath at her honesty. Before you know what you’re doing, you bring your hand up to her trace your fingers over her cheek to brush a wet strand of hair out of her face. “I’m sorry, Laur. Is there anything I can do?”

Your fingers hover over her skin and a soft blush makes its way up her neck.

“I’m ok,” Lauren says, not taking her eyes off you. “It hurts, but – you’re… that’s sweet—” She seems to realize what she’s said about a split second later, because her eyes go wide and she quickly coughs and you pull your hand back. “I mean, thank you. And no, thank you – I mean, you don’t need to do anything.”

She shifts and you bite your lip and neither of you really seem to know what do with your hands, so you just awkwardly fold yours over your lap and then unfold them again while you try not to get all flustered.

“Anyway…” Taylor says eventually, cutting through the tension. She’s looking back and forth between you with amused smile on her face. “What movie should we watch?”

XXIII.

Something has shifted between you. You’re not exactly sure what it is – but right between Lauren’s head falling onto your shoulder as she drifts off to sleep on the coach, completely missing the ending of _Finding Nemo_ , and the small tug at the back of your stomach as you realize how close she is to you, you realize that something has shifted.

You haven’t left.

You could have – you were halfway out of the door already – but you didn’t, and now it’s like you’ve been put in some sort of vacuum where the entire dynamic between you and Lauren is completely different. You’re not exactly sure how to deal with it or what to think about it.

All you know is that something has shifted.

Taylor just keeps smirking at you from the other couch. Chris, who just got back from work, has a frown on his face, though. You’re just busy trying to keep staring ahead, keeping your eyes on the movie as if nothing’s happening, ignoring the fact that you’re under the full scrutiny of Lauren’s siblings as their sister is sleeping against you.

Lauren’s breathing softly against your neck, making your skin heat up a little in the spot.

It’s a good thing that you’ve seen _Finding Nemo_ many times before already, because, for some reason, you’re not entirely able to pay much attention to the movie.

“All right,” Taylor sighs, as the credits begin to roll. “I guess I’m going to bed.”

She looks up at you and for a moment your stomach clenches. You should probably leave. You wanted to leave earlier, and Lauren probably wants some time alone, so you should leave. But then Lauren shifts a little and pushes her face deeper in your neck, lips brushing your skin. You completely miss whatever Taylor just said to you.

“Sorry, what?”

Taylor smiles at you, getting up off the couch. “Nothing, just – good night.” Then, the corner of her mouth shifts upwards, as her grin slowly widens. “… and try not to have _too_ much fun together, she does have a concussion.”

_What._

You stare at Lauren’s sister, who looks like she can’t be much older than sixteen, and you are completely speechless. What is she even talking about? You bite your lip hard. What the hell – do all the Jauregui children have some sort of gene combination that causes them to be freaking suggestive about everything?

You try to fight the blush that rises up your cheeks. “I – that will – _of course_.”

Taylor smiles, and then turns her gaze to her brother. “ _Chris_.”

Chris is still looking at you through narrowed eyes. After another pointed look from his younger sister, he finally gets up as well. “All right, I’m going to bed, too.”

“Sleep well,” Taylor says.

“Yes,” you answer, a little breathlessly. “You too. Both of you.”

They still hang around for a little while, taking turns walking in out of the bathroom, as they get ready for bed, but after about five minutes, both of them are in their own rooms with their doors closed, and you are still on the couch in the dark with Lauren sleeping against you and you have absolutely no idea what to do next.

You’ve been so careful not to move around, but after twenty minutes of her lying like this, your shoulder has started to cramp up a little. So after another couple of breaths, you move slightly, trying not to wake her up. Lauren stirs anyway, slowly opening her eyes.

“Hey,” she breathes into you. “What’s going on?”

“The movie’s finished,” you say, trying to ignore how fast your heart is beating. “Your brother and sister have gone to bed already.”

“Oh. Ok.”

“How’s your head?” you ask.

She kind of shrugs. “It feels like none of these stupid painkillers are actually working. But I should probably just go to sleep soon, so…”

She trails off, falling into silence. For a while, you just sit next to each other on the couch in the dark apartment with only the light of Taylor’s laptop beaming into the room. You don’t know what to say, whether you even want to move out of this position or not. You don’t even know if you _should_ want to or not.

Then, Lauren says, out of nowhere, “Are you going to stay the night?”

The question catches you off guard a little. To say you haven’t thought about it would be a lie, but at the same you didn’t want to assume that just because Lauren asked you not to leave her earlier, it means that— that you can—

You should probably just go.

“I mean…” you say, dragging it out a little bit longer than necessary, because there’s a part of you that keeps pulling you back, keeps _confusing_ you about everything, so much that you hear yourself say, “Do you… do you want me to stay the night?”

It sounds like her breath hitches in her throat. She slowly turns her head and looks at you, her face only half-lit by the light of the laptop. She seems to feel a little conflicted as she stares into your eyes.

Then, she breathes out, “Yes.”

You can feel her breath on your lips, that’s how close she is. The tension increases.

“A-all right, then,” you say, swallowing hard.

Your eyes flick down her lips and you think about how that kiss you shared earlier today already feels like a _lifetime_ ago. You can’t really – you really shouldn’t even think about—

Behind you, a door abruptly opens, startling you so hard that you almost fall of the couch. Chris is standing in the doorway.

“Sorry,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “I – um – forgot my charger.”

He quickly walks over and takes his charger from the table. Lauren is looking at him like she wants to strangle him. You run a hand through your hair, trying to calm down the nerves in your stomach.

“Good night, people. Sorry – um, yeah. Bye.” Chris disappears back into his room.

Silence falls over you again, but the moment is broken. You quickly stand up off the couch. “You should probably go to sleep, too. You really need to take your—”

“—rest,” Lauren finishes for you, sounding a little irritated. “Yeah, I know.”

She stands up and makes her way over to the bathroom. You can hear water running. After a while she reappears with a towel, a toothbrush and a set of clean clothes. “If you want to take a shower...”

“Thanks,” you tell her, quickly taking them from her, trying not to look directly in her eyes.

You move into the bathroom and close the door behind you, before you do something stupid like think about kissing her again. You shower in a haze, trying not to think of Lauren when you massage the all too familiar eucalyptus shampoo in your own hair. Then, you brush your teeth, pull your hair up in a bun and put on the shorts and tank top that Lauren got you. You take a couple of deep breaths before flicking the lights off and moving into Lauren’s room. It’s dark when you enter. Lauren’s already in bed.

She doesn’t say anything as you make your way over and slip under the covers. You don’t try to make any noise, because she may already be sleeping, so you softly lay down on your side with your face in Lauren’s direction, squinting a little against the darkness to see if she’s looking back at you or not—

—in less than a second, her lips are on yours, hot and hungry, as she kisses you hard.

You gasp in surprise, but then the all too familiar sensation of her mouth on yours takes over and you give into her touch, kissing her back, despite your inhibitions. She moans in your mouth as you deepen the kiss, and the sound shoots heat all through your body. Oh my god – it feels so fucking good. _This_ is what you’re good at, _this_ is the only way you know how to deal with all the goddamn things that are between you, all the complications and the tension and the way her eyes are making your heart race right out of your chest. In less than a second, you decide to damn everything to hell and you kiss her so hard that she whimpers against you. You don’t want to stop, you never want to stop again—

But then your mind catches up with your body and a shockwave rushes all over you as you realize what you’re doing.

You abruptly break away from her.

_Jesus Christ_ – she has a fucking concussion. You’re so appalled with yourself that you’re not able to breathe for a moment. Fuck – you can’t just—

She pulls you back into her, kissing you again, letting her hands hover over your skin as she pushes your shirt up, before trailing them hotly over your sides, moving closer. You can’t think straight. One of her arms hooks around your neck as she kisses you harder, even more demanding. Heat rushes over you, and she moans again, but you can’t – you have to _stop—_

You back up again, but she won’t let you, moving even further into you. You try to slow her down, try to pull back from her touch, but her nails dig into your back as she pulls you closer against her. She’s got her hands in your hair and she’s got her leg in between yours now, and fucking hell, you _want_ to, but you’re so hesitant to put your hands on her body, because you just really, really shouldn’t—

Lauren groans in frustration. “Camila.” Her eyes lock into yours and she’s half on top of you, panting heavily. Her gaze hardens a little when she adds, “Can you fucking stop holding back already?”

Your breath catches in your throat at the look in her eyes. Maybe she wants to just as much as you do. The thought makes you blush so hard.

But then, for a split second, Lauren face crumples in pain and it slaps you right back into reality.

“Laur,” you mumble, pushing her hair back, stroking through it. “Let’s just slow down a little, ok?”

You don’t add the _I don’t want to hurt you_ , but you think it anyway.

She frowns hard and you _know_ – slow is not really your thing; slow is the worst because it makes you feel everything that much more – but it’s the only way you can allow for this to be happening right now, so before she can say anything, you bring your hands up to her face and then pull her lips down onto yours again. You kiss her, soft and heated, wrapping your arm around her waist as you pull her closer into you.

She seems a little taken aback at first, not really knowing how to respond. But as you capture her bottom lip between your lips, she moans and falls into you again, picking up where you left off. You try to keep things slow, but it's way more difficult than you thought it would be. You quickly start to lose yourself in Lauren's scent and in her skin and her hands touching heated patterns into your skin. It is so intense that you can’t help but whimper at how she’s setting all your senses on fire, making you feel absolutely _everything_ – the heated sweetness of her touches, the push and pull, all this goddamn delicious tension that you only ever feel with Lauren.  

As her kisses start to cloud your mind, you roll her over until she’s the one pinned against the mattress, and she looks up at you and she is so fucking beautiful that you stare at her a little too long for it to be just casual.

She notices it, of course. She always notices everything. With her chest heaving up and down, she challenges your stare. “That’s kind of unfair.”

“What is?” you mumble, because you’re a little hazed under her heated gaze and so you don’t catch on.

The corner of her mouth tugs upwards. “How am I supposed to take it slow if you start looking at me like that?”

It makes you blush so hard that you bury your face in her neck and start placing hot kisses all over her throat, trying to avoid her eyes.

“God,” Lauren husks as your lips find one of her more sensitive spots. “You’re driving me crazy, you know that? If I didn’t have this fucking concussion…”

You know that you’re letting yourself slip. You know that this – the way you’re talking to each other right now – is not doing much good for ‘taking it slow’. You know you have to stop, for real this time, before you take it any further, but you’re always so good at riling each other up and you’ve missed this kind of banter so fucking much, that you can’t stop yourself from saying, “Oh yeah? What would you do to me then?”

She lets out a throaty noise and doesn’t say anything. Instead, she just lifts your chin up to her face again and pushes her mouth hot on yours. You let her kiss you for a moment, before breaking away, teasing smile on your lips.

“I’m not hearing any actual answers, Jauregui…” You kiss her messily, before breaking away again. “Once again, you’re all talk the talk, no—"

Her fingers hook around the waistband of your shorts and the rest of your sentence dies in your throat.

_Oh my god,_ you can’t let her—

With her eyes still gazing into yours, she slips her fingers under it, hovering over your skin, moving lower and lower, right down to your—.

You abruptly roll off of her, grabbing her wrist and pushing her hand away from you. Your chest heaves up and down as you lay on you back, next to her, staring up at the ceiling, trying to get it together.

“Laur,” you choke out. “You can’t do that.”

Her voice is a little shaky as she says, “Why not?”

It sends an entire new wave of heat through your body, but you have to force it down.

“Because,” Your throat feels dry suddenly. “If you start _that_ , I’m – I don’t think I…” Your voice wavers but you’ve got to say it, before you lose your nerve. “I – won’t be able to stop.”

She turns her face sideways then, looking at you. There’s a look on her face that you’ve only seen a handful of times before – something so intensely real and honest that it cracks you open completely, when she breathes out into the darkness, “I don’t want to stop.”

You stare at her and it’s the most she’s ever given to you, it’s the most she’s admitted to wanting this and it makes you feel completely and utterly terrified.

You shift back, away from her, trying to create more distance, because you’re suddenly so goddamn scared of all the power that she holds on you, of how much you _want_ her – it starts flooding shivers of panic through your body because you don’t think you’ve ever wanted anything this much, but you can’t.

She’s not yours to touch.

You don’t actually exist in the vacuum of this apartment together with Lauren, no matter how much you keep fooling yourself. There’s this whole real world out there where all you do is fight and tear each other apart on the hockey field and where she’s wearing Cameron’s tank top and you’re sleeping with a girl from the softball team. A real word where she’s told you that you’re nothing but a game to her – and you just keep forgetting that you’re _letting_ her play with you.

“You need to get some sleep,” you tell her, then, because it’s too much and she knows it too.

You can’t look her in the eyes anymore without feeling like you’re going to break, so you turn sideways, with your face away from her. You don’t want her to see how scared you are.

“Camila,” she says. “I’m sorry – I shouldn’t have…”

She trails off and you wait, because you want to know what she’s thinks she should be apologizing for. She shouldn’t have what? Fucked you in the locker room showers? Messed around with your feelings in front of the entire team? Slept with Cameron? Called you baby? Made _love_ to you in that hotel bed for hours and hours and then walk out on you the next day as if it didn’t even happen?

She doesn’t finish her sentence. You bite your lip so hard that you taste blood. 

Then, Lauren says. “I’m sorry – for never knowing what to do.”

Her voice sounds so small and so vulnerable and you know that it’s all she can give you right now. That this is all you can give each other at the moment. So, you don’t turn around, but you do bring your hand backwards and reach out until your fingers have found hers. You loosely interlace your hands and then you mumble, “I’m sorry, too.”

You’re not even sure if she’s heard you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> Happy new year everyone!
> 
> Thank you so much for all your comments! They really make my day!! :) This fic is starting to have a life of its own haha. I originally thought it would only be around ten chapters long, but we are FAR from the end. I've got a lot of good things coming up soon, so stay tuned for the next chapters. Let me know what you think! 
> 
> I hope you all have a lovely day!  
> -Blake


	10. 9

XXIII.

You leave early in the morning. You don’t know what else to do.

When you open your eyes, it’s still dark. Lauren’s lying against your back, arm draped over your side, breathing softly in your neck. For a moment, you allow yourself to intertwine your fingers with hers as you lean back into her, taking in every single detail from her scent to the steady rhythm of her chest to the way she mumbles a little when you bring her fingers up to your mouth and softly press a kiss against them.

Then, you move out of bed, trying to block it all out. You _have_ to block it out, because if you don’t, you know that you quite possibly may never leave. She’s got too strong a hold on you, already.

As you gather your stuff and try to find your jacket, it feels like something is stuck in your throat. Your ribcage feels tight and your muscles hurt, even though you haven’t done anything. There’s a heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach that you can’t get rid of – fear and vulnerability and guilt and something which you don’t know the word for but it’s exactly the result of whatever Lauren is doing to you, what she’s been doing to you for weeks already. You think that maybe no word exists for it, because it’s too specific.   

You take another look at her – her hair is messy and she’s curled herself into your pillow now, breathing into it. You bite your lip so hard that you almost draw blood.

Moving quickly, before you change your mind, you find a piece of paper on her desk and scribble your number on it. You know she has it already, but you can’t leave without saying anything at all. Your stomach clenches so tightly that it hurts.

You move over to the bed and get down on your knees.

“Hey…” you breathe out so softly that you _know_ for sure that she won’t hear you. You don’t actually want her to hear you. “Laur – be careful, ok? Just… take care of yourself.”

You softly brush your fingers over her cheek and she stirs a little but doesn’t wake up.

“Ok,” you whisper. “I’m gonna go now. Sleep well, ba—”

You abruptly stop yourself, feeling the familiar sensation of a hot blush rushing up to your neck. Without saying anything else, you make your way out of her room and stumble through the empty apartment. As you run down the stairs, you notice that you’re breathing really hard, as you’re trying not to think about the fact that you just almost called her _baby._

You leave.

It’s too much – it’s all too much – and you don’t know what else to do.

XXIV.

You call your mother and you cry when she picks up. You haven’t spoken to her in such a long time and it’s so overwhelming that you choke up as soon as you hear her familiar voice. She asks you what’s wrong and you tell her that you’re just really stressed out about university and about hockey practice and that you haven’t been feeling like yourself in such a long time and you don’t know what to do anymore. You don’t tell her anything about Lauren, not a single word, but maybe she hears it somewhere in your voice, anyway, because she says _Mija, you have to be a little softer to yourself_ and it only makes you cry harder, because you don’t know how. You don’t know how to leave space for all the messed up feelings in your body without feeling like you’re going to crumple under the weight.

Your mother tells you _sometimes if people forget how to take care of themselves before they take care of someone else, it only makes things worse_ and you dig your fingernails into your palms so hard, because it seems that you and Lauren are both failing at every single aspect of your mother’s advice – and your mother doesn’t even know about it, but she still kind of does. 

XXV.

You run the furthest distance you’ve ever ran in you life – all the way to the beach and then even further, along the shoreline until you’re way past the tourists, even past most of the locals. By the end of it you can hardly breathe anymore. You fall down in the sand and it almost takes you half an hour to calm yourself down again.

You close your eyes and you think about field hockey.

The very first time you ever held a hockey stick, you were three years old. Your dad had brought you along to his old club, the one he’d been playing for professionally when he was in his twenties. He’d given you the stick for your birthday; it was the tiniest frame that had been available and as you were running along that gigantic, enormous field where your father had once been running, he shot the ball in your direction and you scored. Your mother captured the whole thing on her video camera. In the last two or three seconds of the tape, you can see that your dad is crying.

You don’t even remember a time that you weren’t playing field hockey.

For as long as you know, you’re life has been scheduled around it. Play dates canceled for extra practice hours; dinners with friends postponed for game weekends; birthdays spent warming up along the side lines. All the friends you’ve ever had are the girls on your teams. The first time a boy kissed you, you told him to leave right afterwards because you had to go over game strategies with your dad. The first time a girl kissed you, you had to break away after a couple of moments because the game was going to start in fifteen minutes.  

After high school graduation, you got offered eleven scholarship placements from eleven different universities, but your dad had played for UCLA, so the choice was easily made.

You run your hands through the sand and stare at the waves crashing onto the beach.

You want to sleep.

You want to close your eyes and just forget about everything; about the fact that your mind has only ever been capable of thinking in field positions and angles for shots on goal, unable to allow for anything else. Unable to allow for anything that might distract you from playing – something like soft smiles and piercing green eyes and hot lips on your neck that kiss you in ways that don’t even compare to any of your other experiences, with boys, with girls, with _anyone._   

You are twenty years old and you have never seriously been with someone, because hockey has always come first, and now— you can feel yourself getting distracted. You can feel yourself slipping and slipping with every minute you spend together with her and you don’t know how you’re ever going to be able to stop.

You stare at your phone. It’s 10.52 am. She’ll be awake by now and you won’t be there. You hate yourself for suddenly doubting whether it was a good idea to leave.

You hate yourself even more for constantly going back and forth between wanting nothing else than to just _play_ field hockey for the rest of your life and for wanting to quit it all together at once so you can actually start living – drink at parties, swim at midnight, spend entire days in bed, just kissing the girl you want to kiss already.

Even after hours of staring at the waves, you can’t make up your mind about it.     

XXVI.

You’ve got some explaining to do.

As soon as you make your way onto the field, the other girls come running up to you. It’s clear that Ally has already told them about Lauren’s accident, but everyone still fires question after question at you and you try you’re very best to explain the situation and to assure everyone that Lauren is going to be ok. But then, Dinah smirks at you and says, “So, how come you’re so well informed, huh, Mila?”

You try to keep your face straight. “I, um, I checked up on her.”

“Yeah,” Dinah says, kinking her eyebrow. “For like a week…”

Some of the girls laugh and you glare at Dinah, because first of all, it hasn’t even been _two days_ and second of all, what is she even talking about? You catch Cameron’s hard stare from the corner of your eye and your heart shoots up in your throat, but you try your very best to ignore it.

“Let’s get back to practice,” you say quickly, trying to change the subject.

Ally gives you a questioning look, but you shake your head at her. You don’t want to talk about it right now. You just want to play some field hockey. You make sure to go up to Coach Martin to inform him about Lauren’s situation and after that you lose yourself in the practice. Your legs are still extremely sore from your long run on the beach, but you tire yourself out anyway, because it seems like the only thing to do to take your mind of things. The tension only barely leaves your body, though.

Cameron corners you in the locker room. You’ve tried to ignore a direct confrontation, because that may very well be the last thing you need right now, but she’s right in your face before you can leave.

“So,” she says. “How come Lauren is not answering my calls?”

She’s got such an accusing scowl on her face that you can’t help but back up a little, but at the same time anger starts flaring up in your chest with the way she’s got her hands on her hips as if she’s trying to intimidate you or something.

“How the fuck should I know?” you counter.

Cameron’s eyebrow rises ever so slightly. “It seems you two have been spending a lot of time together.”

You bite your lip hard, narrowing your eyes at her. “If there’s something you want to say to me, just say it.”

“Jealously doesn’t look good on you, Camila.”

You can’t help yourself. “No,” you snarl at her, before you can stop yourself. “It doesn’t look good on _you._ Now get out of my way.”  

It bothers you more than you’d like to admit. You’ve always liked Cameron; she’s usually really nice and funny and she’s one of the more talented players on the team. You know that you’ve got no right talking to her like this, because her reaction is only logical and it’s not even her fault in the first place. It’s fucking Lauren’s fault for not knowing what she wants and messing around with you both – and you _know_ that, and yet you can’t stop yourself from acting like this. 

You can’t stop yourself from thinking about Lauren in general.

Even when you’re back in your own dorm room, you’re not able to calm yourself down. You keep staring at your phone. You try to catch up on some homework and you do some preparation research on the team you’re playing against tomorrow, but it doesn’t help. Your mind keeps drifting off.

When your phone finally does start ringing, it’s almost midnight and the sound completely startles you.

“Hello?” you say, a little breathlessly.

It’s not Lauren. It’s Taylor.

“Hey,” she says. “Sorry to bother you this late, just a quick question. Lauren says you’ve got an important game tomorrow afternoon?”

It takes you a second to catch up. “Uh – yeah, I mean, yes, we’ve got a game tomorrow.”

“She says there are scouts coming.”

“Oh—” you stammer. You haven’t even really had time to think about that. “Yeah, that’s true.”

You can hear Lauren in the background, swearing about something that you can’t properly hear. There’s some noise and a bit of shuffling and then you can hear Taylor snap _I’m talking to Camila so shut up for one second will you_ followed by more noise and then something that sounds like _Lo, stay in bed_ before Taylor says into the phone: “Lauren says she’s going to play the game tomorrow.”

You gasp loudly. “Like hell she is. Not with that concussion.”

“Exactly!” Taylor exclaims loudly. “That’s what I said. Thank you. We’ve been arguing about this for half an hour already. I thought I’d call you so you can tell her that this is not happening.”

There’s some more noise and then all of a sudden it sounds like the phone is yanked away from Taylor, because the next thing you hear is Lauren’s raspy voice as she says, “I’ve got to play tomorrow.”

“Lauren,” you breathe out. “Are you out of your mind? That’s fucking insane. You know that. You can’t play with that concussion.”

She scoffs. “So what – you think you and my baby sister are going to stop me?”

_What is she even talking about?_

“Laur, how do – why do you,” you stammer. “You _know_ you can’t play like this!”

She groans in frustration. “I have to play. There are scouts coming.” There’s a panicked edge to her voice. “You _have_ to let me play. I’ll take painkillers. I—” She groans again. “Fucking hell, I can make my own decisions! I’m twenty-one years old and I’m not going to let you tell me that I can’t—”

Your mind is buzzing. You still don’t understand why she’s making such a crazy big deal out of this game tomorrow, but you do know that she’s crazy enough to actually show up.

“Ok, shut up for a second,” you cut her off. You hate how angry you sound, but at the same time you’ve got no choice. It works – she falls silent for a moment. “Lauren, you’re _not_ going to play tomorrow. I’m not letting you. You’re going to take your rest and you’re going to stay in bed. There will be other games with other scouts and—” She already starts protesting again and you hesitate, but then say it anyway, “—if you show up tomorrow, you’re off the team. For real.”

That shuts her up.

You hold your breath. It’s taking every fiber of your being not to apologize right now. You need to stay strong. If there’s one thing you know about Lauren is that she’ll do whatever the hell she pleases – so this might be the only way.

Then, she says, “Fucking hell, Camila.”

You bite your lip, not knowing what to say to that.

Lauren lets out a high-pitched laugh. “This is the fucking worst,” she says and you don’t even know if she’s talking to you or to Taylor or to herself. “Thanks a lot _, captain_.”

The sarcasm in her tone stings so hard. You feel tears shooting up through your throat because all you do is _try_ and she keeps running right over you. Something snaps and you can’t stop yourself.

“Actually,” you cut at her. “Now that we’re talking – maybe you should fucking call you _girlfriend_ back. She almost attacked me today because you’ve been ignoring her.” Lauren doesn’t say anything to that and the panic of the moment takes over, making you talk without actually wanting to. “Maybe you should also stop fucking people over, Lauren. Maybe you should stop messing around with everyone without ever explaining to them why you’re doing all the shitty things that you’re doing. Not everything is a fucking game.”  

You voice cracks on the last words and you hang up, before she can hear that you’ve started crying.

She doesn’t call you back.

XXVII.

You end up losing the game. You don’t even really know how it happens. It seems that no one is completely focused. Dinah is working her ass off, trying so very hard to keep blocking the offensive shots, but at some point the other team manages to score anyway and after that, it’s like there’s no way back.

You don’t have any tears left, anymore.

Some of the scouts want to talk to you, apparently, but you disappear into the locker rooms before they can come up to you. You don’t _care._ All you want is a shower and then go to bed and not think about anything anymore.

“Hey, Mila.”

It’s Normani.

“Yeah?” you ask, a little uninterested because she’s probably going to ask you about Lauren and that’s the very last thing you can handle right now.

But she just smiles at you and says, “Do you want to come over to my place? Have dinner with Dinah and Ally? Watch _Mean Girls_ or something.”  

Your first instinct is to say ‘no’.

But then you look at her face and you think about all the times that you could have hung out with your friends during the last three months which you instead spent trying not to get caught with your hands between Lauren’s legs, and you find yourself nodding.

“Yes.” You try to smile. “Thanks, Mani. That would be great.”

It _is_ kind of great.

You all order in pizza and you put on sweats and cuddle up on the couch and Dinah keeps talking through the movie and Normani keeps protesting and throwing popcorn in her face and Ally tells you all about some boy that she met at a coffee place last week, trying not to blush – and it keeps hitting you, over and over, how much you’ve _missed_ them, how much you’ve missed this.

“So,” Dinah says at some point, “Did y’all buy me a Christmas present already? I’m looking at you, Mila – you still owe me for that shitty nail polish you gave me last year, which you picked right out of your own bathroom because you forgot.”

You can’t help but grin. “Dinah, don’t you think that the fact that I put up with you on a daily basis is a big enough gift?”

She throws a pillow in your face and you start laughing as you throw it back.

As the night continues, you can feel yourself physically loosening up. You’re laughing more and more, joking along with them as your chest gets lighter. Jesus Christ – why has it been so long since you had a night like this? You bake banana bread and you watch some more movies and then Normani starts blowing up air beds so you can all spend the night and it’s the best thing you’ve done in ages.

“You guys,” Normani says, once it’s so late that you’re barely able to keep your eyes open for much longer. You’re all sprawled out on the air beds, close together, under a mess of sheets, blankets and pillows. “If you wouldn’t be doing field hockey, what would you like to do instead?”

Dinah groans because Normani always gets philosophical late at night, but Ally smiles and answers right away: “Music.”

“In what way, though?” Normani says.

You can feel Ally shrug a little. “Just everything – making it, recording it, going to gigs, trying to find people who like the same stuff as I do. What about you?”

Normani smiles. “I’d like to do something with music too, actually.” She laughs. “I’ve always had the feeling that there’s a future for me as a singer in some universe somewhere. Maybe your record label could sign me.”

“I’d just be partying like crazy,” Dinah says, before anyone even asks her. “And never ever do a fucking bleacher sprint in my life.”

You all start laughing. Then, the silence falls over you again and Normani rolls over into her blanket, getting more comfortable. Dinah yawns and you can feel that Ally is desperately trying not to fall asleep next to you. They’re all waiting for you to say something, though.

“Mila?” Ally says eventually when you stay quiet.

You bite your lip. “I don’t really know.”

You think about, but there’s nothing that you can think of. Nothing else you’d like to be doing except playing field hockey. There hasn’t even ever been a time where you might have had to consider an alternative.

Dinah’s breathing is getting deeper and Ally curls herself into you to fall asleep holding on to you. You can feel your own eyes falling closed as well. But right before you fall asleep, Normani whispers, “You should think about it some time.”

She’s kind of right.        

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> Hey guys! 
> 
> I can't stop writing this story haha. I'm actually supposed to be studying for my upcoming exams but literally all I'm doing is sitting in cafés, spending too much money on coffee and writing this fic. Oh well - better get some updates out of the way before exams really do catch up with me in the next few weeks. I know this is a little bit of a background chapter, but I promise that things will speed up again really soon! Hope you all liked it anyway. Let me know what you think!
> 
> Have a lovely day!  
> -Blake


	11. 10

XXVIII.

You don’t talk to Lauren for almost a week – and then she calls you.

It’s Wednesday night, exactly seven days after her accident. You’re sitting against the headboard of your bed, books spread all around you, trying to catch up on some of your homework. You’re just getting stuck trying to summarize a passage on the _normative powers of the European Union_ when your phone stars buzzing and her name flashes across your screen.

You’re so paralyzed by it that the ringing falls flat before you can pick up. For a moment you just stare at your phone as the _missed call_ notification pops up on your screen. You hold your breath and wait, staying exactly where you are, not daring to reach over and grab your phone.

But then, she calls again and you can’t ignore it.

Your hand trembles when you slide your finger over your screen. Your throat is so tight that you’re not able to say anything when you pick up.

“Hey,” Lauren says after a beat of silence.

Your heart skips at the sound of her voice.  

“Hey,” you breathe out.

She’s silent for a short moment, before stammering out, “H-how are you?”

You don’t even really know anymore at this point, so much has happened lately. But you hear yourself answer, because you’ve got to say something, even if it’s not true. “I’m fine.”

Lauren doesn’t say anything and you don’t ask anything back. You’re both just breathing into your phones, unsure of what to do next. You can feel the tension spike up even though you’re not physically together. Then, Lauren blurts out, “Camila, can we talk?”

There’s something in her voice which cuts right through your skin, something which you’ve only heard a couple of times before – vulnerability.

You nod, before realizing that she can’t see that of course, so you mumble, “Ok.”

“Is – is now a good time?” she says. You glance at the clock. It’s almost eleven already. Before you can say anything, though, Lauren says, “I can meet you at the _The Library Café_ café in twenty minutes?” 

You know what place she’s talking about. It’s a small café right outside of campus that always seems to be open. You used to study there sometimes last year when you lived in different dorms. It’s close to where Lauren lives too.

“Ok,” you tell her, before you can stop yourself. “I’ll meet you there. Twenty minutes.”

You don’t ask her about her concussion and whether it’s ok for her to go there. You don’t ask her about anything. You just hang up as her words from last week echo through your mind. She’s twenty-one years old. She can make her own decisions.

XXIX.

She’s already there when you enter and for a moment you halt in the doorway of the café, just to look at her.

She’s wearing dark jeans, boots and her leather jacket over one of her _The 1975_ t-shirts – it’s all so _goddamn Lauren_ that you can’t help but bite your lip as you take her in. She’s got a gray beanie on her head that does not entirely cover the cut on her forehead. Her face is pale, but she looks better than she did last week, more stable, less exhausted. She’s still nervous, though. You can tell because she keeps clenching and unclenching her hands like she always does before big games. 

You take a deep breath and then you walk over. “Hey.”

She looks up and relief passes over her face, as if some part of her had been scared that you wouldn’t actually show up. You try to ignore the way your stomach flips at the sight of her green eyes.

“Hey,” she says and the smallest trace of a smile passes over her face. Then, before you can do anything about it, she gets to her feet and wraps her arms around you in a quick hug, almost impulsively. She draws back immediately and a faint blush spreads on her cheeks, but she _pulled you into her_ and even though it was just for a moment, your body is not completely immune to the sudden sensation either.  

You quickly take the seat across from her, trying not to show her that you’re getting flustered. A waitress comes up to you and you absentmindedly order a coffee, even though it’s eleven at night. All you can focus on is Lauren.

“Thank you, for, um – for coming here,” she starts. “I know it’s weird timing and you’re probably really busy, but yeah… I just – I mean – thanks and, um… You look—”

You can’t stop yourself.

“How are you feeling?” you cut her off, getting straight to the point, because that is all that’s been on your mind for days and now that you’re actually in front of her, you want to know, you need to know, right now. You need to know if she’s all right.

She looks a little taken aback, but then she says, “I’m ok. I’m actually doing pretty well. My head still hurts a lot, so I’m on painkillers, but I haven’t really been nauseous or dizzy and the doctors say that it’s all looking good.” She shrugs a little. “I had an appointment this morning and if I feel good enough, I can slowly start doing things again, just to see how that goes, even hockey. You know, if I’m careful and don’t – don’t attend the actual training sessions yet.”

It’s such a relief. You didn’t even realize you’d been feeling stressed about it, but now that she says it, it’s like your entire ribcage opens up again.

“Laur,” you breathe out. “That’s so good to hear.”

She looks a little surprised and you realize that it might sound a little strange considering all the things you said to her last week, but she still smiles at you.

Then, her gaze flicks down again, to the table where her hands are still tightly pressed together. “So – I, um…” She coughs. “I need to – well, I think I owe you an apology.” She bites down on her lip. “I’ve been a complete mess and I’ve said so many things to you that I didn’t mean and…” Her voice wavers a little bit. “And I know it’s not excusable in any way, but this concussion has just been… I don’t know, I feel so – I’ve just been feeling so—” Her voice breaks.

You lean over, before you can stop yourself.

“Hey,” you say, grabbing her hands. “It’s ok. I understand. God, Lauren, of course I understand.”    

She looks up at you. “I’m really sorry.”

Her eyes stare into yours and you know that she is. The waitress brings your coffee over and for a moment silence falls over the both of you as you take a sip of your drink. You absentmindedly register that you’re still holding Lauren’s hand in yours, but you don’t pull back.

“How’s your week been?” you ask her. “Did you stay in bed enough?”

She exhales slowly. “It’s been challenging – to say the least.”

You can’t help but smile a little, feeling the corner of your mouth turn upwards outside of your control as you say, “What – for you? Or for Chris and Taylor?”

It’s not even that funny, but she laughs at it anyway and the sound eases the tension a little bit, while you both keep looking at each other and the air softens. There’s a faint flutter in the center of your stomach. God – she’s really got something on you that no one else has. 

Lauren grins. “Point taken. How was the game?”

“Oh—” You look down. “We lost.”

“Really? What happened?”

“I fucked up all my shots on goal, that’s what happened,” you mutter.

Lauren’s quiet for a moment. Then, she says, “Did Martin say anything about it?”  

You shrug. “Just his usual ‘don’t worry about it’ pep talk, but you could tell that he wasn’t all that happy with the way we played. You know, ‘cause of the scouts that showed up.”

At that, Lauren’s expression hardens a little. She bites her lip and you can tell that there’s something that she’s got to say, but at the same time she doesn’t seem to really want to.

“What?” you ask her, anyway.

“No, it’s – nothing,” she says. “It’s – it’s my own fault, anyway.”

You can feel your eyes narrow. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s my own fault that I couldn’t play the game on Saturday,” she says then, talking a little faster than before. “I got myself into this fucking situation in the first place and it’s my own damn fault for being, for letting…”

You cut her off. “Lauren, you got _hit by a car—_ ”

“Yeah, well, I had it coming.”

“ _What_?” You stare at her, unable to believe what she’s saying. You can feel yourself getting worked up again, you can feel the tension increasing, because you _don’t understand_ and you’re so tired of these stupid arguments where all you do is talk past each other. “Seriously, what are you—”

She pulls her hand out of yours abruptly.

“I was being reckless,” she says. “Ok? I wasn’t thinking straight after that practice. All I could focus on was the game and the scouts and my scholarship and _you_ and…” Her voice wavers. “And it’s my own fault because I didn’t watch where I was going when I crossed – and now I fucked everything up and it’s my own fault.” 

The same feeling of guilt that you’ve been feeling for the entire week already settles in the pit of your stomach again as you look at her.

“It’s not _your_ fault,” you choke out, because you can feel the panic rising in your chest again “I was absolutely awful to you during practice. I had no right to say those things to you and—” There’s a shrill edge to your voice. “I’ve been such a fucking bitch to you even though I had absolutely no reason to because you told me that it didn’t mean anything and I _know_ it didn’t – and still it had me all – I just—” Your voice cracks. “When your brother called me, I just – I felt _so…_ ”

You can’t even say it.

She’s staring at you hard. “Camila…”

It rips right through you.

“I’m sorry,” you tell her. “You didn’t deserve to be treated like that.”

Something shifts on her face. Then, she says, “Yes, I did.”

You’re pretty sure that you’re not just talking about hockey anymore.

The air feels heavy and taut and there’s an uncomfortable stinging in your chest. But this is the closest either of you has ever gotten to discussing what’s been going on between you, the closest either of you has gotten to acknowledging that maybe there are things between you that extend beyond hockey and sex – it feels like she’s slowly tearing your chest open.

Then Lauren says, “I might lose my scholarship.”  

“W-what?” you stammer.

She takes a deep breath. “That’s why I got so angry with you for denying me the ball during practice and why I got so upset that you wouldn’t let me train properly – and why – why I felt like I _had_ to play that game for the scouts, even with my concussion.” She clenches her hands together and stares at the table and for some reason your heart starts beating a little bit faster. “If I don’t play well enough, I lose my scholarship – and if I lose my scholarship, we can’t keep living here.”

You swallow hard, letting her words sink in.

“What do you mean?” you ask then, because you feel like she’s _almost_ telling you something, but you don’t really get it yet, you don’t fully understand.

Lauren takes a deep breath. “I’m here on a full scholarship.” She bites her lip. “But I have to make sure that I keep playing well enough for them to grant me the money each semester, because – because without it… I’d have to quit university and we’d have to move away. So I – I _have_ to play, because Tay and Chris are still in school and we just wouldn’t be able to make enough money. Even with all three of us working part time already, we’re only barely managing right now, and now with the accident, I’m not sure… I don’t know if—”

Her voice breaks again and you can’t stop yourself. You grab both her hands from across the table for the second time and hold onto them.

“Lauren,” you breathe out. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Her gaze hardens a little. “Because I didn’t want you to know.”

The harshness of her words stings a little more than you’d expected. “But, why – I mean—”

“Because everyone always starts asking questions,” she snaps. “And I don’t want to talk about it – because if you know about this then you’ll want to know about what happened before – about why we’re even—”

“Ok,” you say. “I’m sorry. You don’t – you don’t have to tell me anything.”

She looks at you, breathing hard. “I hate talking about it. I can’t even think about it. I just need to be strong and get my shit together and be a responsible adult and hold onto my fucking scholarship without getting distracted.”

You nod. “Ok.”

For a moment neither of you says anything. Your mind is racing and your chest feels tight, because you _do_ want to ask questions, but you also know that you can’t, that she won’t answer them unless she’s ready and it’s all so complicated and multi-layered because you don’t even know if it’s your place to ask questions. You’ve got no idea where you fit into Lauren’s life, if you even fit into it somewhere at all.

Then, you say. “Have you talked to Martin about it? Does he know?”

She shrugs. “Some of it.”

“Ok,” you say, nodding, taking a deep breath. “Ok, well – I’m going to say a few things to you now and you have to listen, ok? I know that you and I… I mean, I know we don’t usually _do_ this… but hear me out, yeah?”

She frowns at you, but before she can protest or interrupt you, you look her in the eyes, making sure you’ve got all of her attention as you say, “You are the best field hockey player I have _ever_ met.”

Your breath hitches as soon as you’ve said it, because you _hate_ to admit it, hate to admit that she’s better than you, but at the same time you feel like it’s the only way to get through to her. “Honestly, you are so ridiculously talented that it’s been freaking me out for three full months already.”

She opens her mouth, but you don’t let her interrupt. “No – don’t you dare deny it. You are _so_ good, Lauren. So good. And I’m only going to say this once, because I already know that you’re going to fucking hold it against me forever, but if any of us has a chance to make it professionally, it’s you.”

She’s staring at you so hard that you’re having trouble keeping your thoughts together, but you force yourself to continue, anyway, to get it all out, before your embarrassment catches up with you. “But here’s the thing. If you want to be able to play again, you need to take your rest and _stop fighting it_ already. Ok? You have to start letting people help you out. Enough is enough. The sooner you recover, the sooner you’re back on the field, and you know that.”

You know you’re rambling. You know she must think you’re crazy right now – but you can’t stop. You’ve got to tell her. “You take your rest and you get better, and then you come claim your scholarship when you don’t have a concussion anymore and you’re back on the field, making us all look like freaking amateurs next to you.”

She doesn’t say anything. She just looks at you while you can feel yourself getting hotter and hotter by the second, as the shame of the moment takes over. _What the hell._ God, she must think—

“Ok.”

You’re a little startled, because if anything you thought she’d start protesting. But she nods slowly, eyes on the table, before they lock right back into yours. There’s a moment where you can feel your breath hitch in your throat and all you can think is _fuck she is beautiful_ over and over again and you’re not able to resist it so you just let it happen. You allow yourself to think that she is beautiful.  

The corner of her mouth curls upwards as she smiles softly at you.

“What?” you demand, because you’re still freaking out a little bit and you have no idea why she would be smiling at you like that.

“Nothing,” she says. “It’s just – you’re really – you’re…” She bites down on her lip. “Well, sometimes I can’t concentrate when you look at me like that.”

There’s a sharp tug at the back of your stomach. 

“ _Oh_ ,” is all you manage to answer.

“Yeah,” she breathes out. “I know.”

You’re still holding her hand. She’s softly running her thumb over the inside of your palm and you suddenly feel nervous. You’re in a café with _Lauren Jauregui_ and she’s holding your hand and you have barely even touched your coffee because you’ve been completely and only focused on her and she just told you that you’re – that she’s—

You swallow hard.

As if she’s reading your mind, Lauren suddenly says, “Want to get out of here?”

You find yourself nodding before you’ve even properly thought about it.

XXIX.

Of course, you end up on the hockey field.   

That is, after you first spend a good five minutes arguing about which one of you should pay for the stupid coffee that you didn’t even finish. You end up both putting too much money down for it which has the waitress frowning a little, but at least you make it out of the café.

“How’s your head?” you ask Lauren. “Don’t you want to go home?”

“Oh, it’s fine,” she says, a little too fast. You give her a look and she quickly adds, “I’ll take it easy. I promise. I just want to be outside for a little while.”

You don’t talk much as you’re crossing the campus. You just walk with your hands in your pockets, trying to pretend that this is normal, like it doesn’t make you feel like your heart is going to burst out of your chest.

When you reach the hockey field, Lauren lets out a shaky breath. You’re the only ones there of course. It must be past midnight already. The familiar field looks dark and empty, but Lauren starts walking to the center, anyway.

As soon as she’s there, she lies down on her back right in the middle of the field.

For a moment you don’t know what to do, but then you decide to damn it all to hell – you’re already way past ‘normal’ with Lauren anyway at this moment – and lie down next to her, looking up at the sky.

“I used to do this all the time as a kid,” she says, after a while. “I’d just drop down on the field right after a really intense practice or after we won a difficult game and it would feel _so_ good, you know? I don’t even know why I did it. I just never wanted to leave. My coach had to come drag me off of it sometimes.”

You can picture it completely – Lauren as a small, careless kid, just lying on her back in the middle of a hockey field, never wanting to get up again. You smile at the thought.

“This is where we live,” you say then, before you can stop yourself.

She’s silent for a beat, before turning her head to look at you. “What do you mean?”

You take a deep breath. For some reason, it’s easier to voice your thoughts in the dark, now that you’re not able to see each other’s faces very well.

“Just that… I get that, I guess,” you say. “The feeling of never wanting to leave. This is where we spend most of our time. We kind of live here a little bit.” Your fingers graze over the pitch as you add, almost as an afterthought, “Almost any important thing that’s ever happened to me happened on a hockey field.”

A moment of silence passes. You can feel that the air is getting colder as the night stretches.

“God, I really fucking miss it,” Lauren says then. “This week has been the absolute worst.”

There’s such an honesty to her voice that you find yourself turning your head to look at her, despite the fact that all you can see is the dark outline of her face and the slight glint of her eyes.

“I know,” you say. You know it’s not really comforting but you don’t know what else to say, if there is anything else you can say to make it a little more all right.

A sudden thought pops in your head. At first, you don’t really want to ask her, but the longer you think about it, the more your curiously takes over and eventually you blurt it out anyway.

“If you wouldn’t be doing field hockey, what would you like to do instead?”

She laughs out loud. “Well, thanks for being so optimistic about my recovery, Cabello…”

You shove her arm with yours, before quickly pulling back because you hadn’t realize you were actually lying so close to her. “I’m serious.”

She considers it for a moment. “I’d probably want to be a curator in a museum.”

“What? Really?”

You’re a little surprised at the specificity of her answer.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” she says. “I am studying Art History, remember?”

You _are_ surprised and you _don’t_ remember, because you never talk about stuff like this, you never really talk in general—

“How was I supposed to know that?” you counter, a little defensively.

She chuckles. “So you’ve been having sex with me, but you don’t even know my major? Shame on you…”

You decide to ignore the way your stomach flips at her words, countering, “Well, do you know mine?”

At that, she falls silent for a beat. “Um – something with… politics?”

“International Relations, you hypocrite,” you say. “Shame on you.”

She laughs and then props herself up on her elbow, extending her hand towards you in a faux introduction. “Hi, my name is Lauren, it is really nice to meet you.”

You can’t help but play along, sitting up as well and taking her hand, shaking it. “Oh hi, I’m Camila, nice to meet you too.”

“I’m so glad I ran into you at this boring Fresher’s Fair,” Lauren continues, not missing a beat.

Your bite your lip, trying not to burst out laughing. “It really is the worst, isn’t it?”

She smiles. “Totally – what did you say you were studying again?”

“International Relations,” you tell her. “What about you?”  

“Cool! I’m doing Art History.”

“Nice!”

She grins and you can see the flirtatious glint in her eyes. “So – now that we’ve got that out of the way – want to go to the field hockey locker rooms so we can have amazing sex in the showers?”

“ _Oh my god_ ,” you groan, pulling your hand out of hers again abruptly and leaning back into the grass, hoping she doesn’t see how hard you’re blushing at the way she said _amazing_. “You’re impossible.” 

She laughs and slowly leans back into the grass again as well. For some reason, it feels like she’s closer to you than before.

“What about you?” she says after a while.

It takes you a second to realize what she’s asking you.

“Oh,” you mumble. “I don’t really know. I’ve only ever wanted to play field hockey. I don’t even know if I can imagine doing something else, to be honest.”

“Well, what do you like to do besides hockey?” she says, before adding with a wicked smile, “—and me.”

“ _Fuck off_ , Lauren,” you snap at her, but you’re not able to make it sound convincing enough. She just laughs and after a moment you kind of laugh too.

“Seriously, though,” she continues. “What do you like to do for fun? Something that has nothing to do with hockey.”

It takes you too long to think about something. She clearly notices it and you feel even more embarrassed that you can’t even think of _one_ thing that care about besides field hockey.

Then you blurt out, “I like the ocean.”

She turns to look at you. “Really?”

You nod. “Yeah. I mean – kind of. It’s not like I could actually do anything with that… But yeah, I really like being close to the ocean. I don’t think I’d ever want to live in a place that’s not right by the side of the ocean.”

She doesn’t say anything, but you can feel her eyes on you. When you turn your head, she’s looking at you with a soft expression. For a moment, your breath hitches in the back of your throat as her eyes flick very visibly down to your lips. She softly tugs on her bottom lip with her teeth before leaning in ever so slightly and—

“I think we should go,” you say, sitting up straight, snapping yourself right out of the moment. “It’s getting late.”

“Yeah,” she says, sounding a little breathlessly. “Yeah, you’re right.”

For some reason, you end up walking her home. It feels like it happens outside of your control, like you don’t even really have a choice. Some part of you feels like you need to explain it, but Lauren’s not saying anything about it, so you kind of just let it happen – so much has happened between you already this evening, this will hardly make a difference.

Before you know it, you’re standing in front of the door to her university accommodation.

Lauren shoves her hands a little deeper in the pockets of her jacket. “Thanks again, for meeting me – and for… for saying those things at the café.”

You nod. “Of course. Thanks for – for calling me.”

You stand a little awkwardly in front of each other. There is a lot of tension in your stomach. Lauren seems a little restless, too.

“Are you going to take things easy?” you ask her, because you’re not sure how to say goodbye, so you just keep standing right in front of her door, trying to delay the inevitable.

She nods. “I’ll try. I’ll probably just go to bed right away… I’m pretty tired, so…”

She trails off.

You nod. “That sounds like a good idea.”

“Right,” Lauren says.

“Right…” you mumble.

She takes a deep breath. The tension stretches. The silence does too – to the point that you almost can’t take it anymore. You should probably just turn around right away. Just go home and get into bed and not think about anything related to Lauren anymore, just—

“Do you want to come up?” Lauren blurts out.

Your breath catches when you look up at her. The way she blushes under your gaze, makes your stomach flip, as you answer, breathlessly, “Yes.”

(You know that you’re slipping and you’re falling and you’re stumbling right over all sorts of lines that you shouldn’t be crossing, but the thing is – you’re pretty sure you couldn’t stop it, even if you tried)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> Finally, some kind of progress, am I right? :)  
> Let me know what you think!  
> Hope you all have a lovely day!
> 
> -Blake


	12. 11

XXX.

You don’t have sex. You don’t even kiss.

You don’t end up stumbling into Lauren’s apartment, tearing clothes off each other, pushing and pulling until you’re both completely naked. You don’t shove each other against walls or fridges or onto counter tops. You don’t crash down into Lauren’s bed, moaning and panting and fighting for dominance. You don’t run your hands over each other’s bodies, skin heating up like a fucking forest fire, until you’re both unable to hold back anymore. You don’t fall over the edge of your climaxes at the same time. 

You stay quiet when you walk into the apartment, because Chris and Taylor are both already sleeping. Lauren makes you a cup of tea and you drink it, sitting on the couch, trying not to look at her for longer than a couple of seconds at a time. She hands you the same toothbrush you used last week, and you change your clothes in the bathroom. The lights are already off when you enter her room. It takes you almost twenty minutes before you allow yourself to roll into her a little bit. Another fifteen pass before she slowly pulls you closer against her, another five before she curls her arm over you until your back is pressed against her front and she’s breathing softly into your neck.  

You don’t have sex. You don’t even kiss.

It doesn’t mean you don’t think about it, though.   

XXXI. 

Lauren is still sleeping when you open your eyes.

For several minutes, you allow yourself to just look at her, because at this point you’re no longer even able to convince yourself that you don’t think she’s absolutely gorgeous – she _is_. And she’s still sleeping so she won’t know you were staring at her, anyway.

She’s lying on her stomach, half against you with her arm still wrapped over your side and her legs tangled with yours. Her face is pressed into the pillows and you can’t stop yourself when you softly tug a loose strand of hair behind her ear, letting your fingers fall against her cheek for a moment longer than you probably should. She’s breathing softly, lips slightly parted. You curl yourself into her body a little more, not really wanting to leave the bed yet. She shifts and your hand falls under the hem of her tank top, fingers grazing over the warm skin of her back, and—

—your phone starts ringing.    

Instantly, you startle away from her, reaching over to grab it from the floor and shut it off before Lauren wakes up. Ally’s name flashes across the screen, right before you manage to turn the sound off.

“Hey…”

Lauren’s looking at you through sleepy half-narrowed eyes. Her voice is extremely raspy – it sends a strange shiver down your spine, and you quickly turn around.

“Sorry, my phone—” you stammer. “I forgot – it’s – sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“That’s ok,” she mumbles, before pulling on your hip. “Come back here.”

She presses her body back against yours and there’s a quick flutter in the pit of your stomach at the fact that does it so deliberately, at how she seems kind of intent on not letting you go yet. Her fingers start to absentmindedly play with the hem of your t-shirt as she yawns into your shoulder. “Hm… you’re always so soft.”

You’re slowly getting flustered because sleepy Lauren is a side of Lauren that you don’t get to see enough of and it makes your head spin a little.

You clear your throat, trying to bring your mind back into focus. “How did you sleep?”

“Really good,” she whispers against your throat. “I don’t want to wake up yet.”

You shift a little. “Oh – sorry, you’re probably really tired still and my stupid phone – I don’t know why Ally would be calling me, I mean, I’ve got class, but that doesn’t mean – sorry that it woke you up – I really—”

“Camila…” Lauren whispers. 

You fall silent, breathing her in while she shifts just a little bit closer to you. Then, she runs her hand over the flat of your stomach and that very well stops your mind from protesting, because _god damn it_ her hands are so warm and it feels so good to have her stroking her fingers all over your skin, all the way up to your—

You let out a throaty noise as her hand curls over your ribs and her fingers just barely graze your breast.

She smirks into your neck, before doing it again, this time pushing her fingers a little higher even, stroking them closer to your nipple on purpose.

“ _Lauren_ —” Her name is a hoarse sound on your lips.

“Hm…” She mumbles. “I love how you’re always so sensitive here.”

Your eyes flutter closed because _damn it_ she is not supposed to know those things about you, but she does. Of course she does. She knows exactly how your body responds to her touch. She knows all the details of all the different ways that she can work her way into your sensitivity. You softly moan as she cups your breast with her hand, then, and your entire body tenses at the direct contact. Oh my God… You should really not be doing this again, you should really try to shake the sleep off of you and—

“Laur—” you try again, but as she softly moves her palm over your hardening nipple, you can’t think straight anymore.

“Something wrong?” she hums in your ear, before bringing her lips down and kissing hotly down your neck. As her tongue flicks just over the spot above your collarbone, your body starts acting off its own account – pulling her closer into you, letting your head fall to the side to give her even more access. You bite your lip hard. Fuck… This is _not_ a good idea. But neither you nor Lauren seems to be able to stop.

She pushes herself up a little so that her leg falls between yours. You automatically pull her hips into you, letting out a raspy breath at the sensation. Lauren draws back at the sound and looks down at you. Your breath catches in the back of your throat with the way she’s staring at you. You bite down on your lip and her eyes flick down to your mouth, while a slow smile spreads around her lips. Your hand finds the back of her neck as you pull her down, right down to your—

The door of Lauren’s bedroom swings open.

“Good morning, Lo, I was – _oh my God_.”

In less than a second, Lauren has rolled off of you. “Jesus, Taylor – ever heard about knocking?”    

Taylor stumbles back into the hallway. “Ok, I did _not_ need to see that. Scarred for life. Oh my God.” She slams the door closed, before yelling. “Good morning to you too, Camila.” 

You’re instantly shaken awake. Your heart is racing in your chest and your hands go sweaty and there’s nothing but heavy embarrassment inside your chest as you quickly sit up straight and try to move away from Lauren.

Lauren groans, pushing her forearm up against her face as she falls back into the pillows. “Oh God…” She gives you a mortified look from between her fingers, before chuckling softly. “Talk about a fucking interruption.” 

“I’ve got class,” you mumble, pushing the covers off you and getting up. You don’t even want to _think_ about what the hell just happened. “I’ve got to get ready.”

In a hurry to get yourself out of the apartment as quickly as possible, you pull your shirt up over your head and scan the room for your bra, not thinking about the fact that you’re fucking naked under it until you catch sight of Lauren’s face.

She’s staring at you hard, her brief amusement at the situation before entirely gone from her face.

For a moment, you feel even more embarrassed, but then you run your tongue over your bottom lip at the look in her eyes – it’s not like she hasn’t seen it all before…

Your skin heats up under her gaze and before you know what you’re doing, you turn completely in her direction, smiling slightly. “Like what you see?”

The words are out of your mouth before you can stop yourself.

Lauren’s gaze flicks up to your eyes and her lips part, before she says, kind of slow, kind of raspy, “You’re so fucking gorgeous – you have no idea.”

The words pulse wave after wave of heat through you. You can feel yourself burn up. Despite your embarrassment of before, you can’t help but relish in the fact that this is how you can make her feel, that _you_ are the one making her cheeks redden like this. With a quick smile you turn around and then slip into your clothes.

Lauren sighs hard, before getting out of bed. “Are you staying for breakfast?”

Any other time you might have said yes but just the thought of sitting at the table with Lauren’s little sister right now is enough to make you feel panicked again. You quickly shake your head. “No, thanks, I’m good. I can’t really afford to be late for my lecture.”  

It’s not even 8 o’ clock, so it’s a bit of a bullshit excuse, but Lauren nods. “Ok.” Then, she adds, pointing to the door, “Um – I’ll just – Taylor—”  

“Yeah,” you answer. “Of course, I’ll just get my stuff and see you in bit.”

For a moment neither of you moves and you just keep standing in front of each other in the middle of Lauren’s bedroom. Then, Lauren spins around and closes the door behind her.  You groan in frustration – why is everything always so charged between you two? You’re never sure what is going to happen; whether she is going to kiss you or push you away, whether you will do the same or not. It’s making your head spin.

You quickly grab your stuff, checking your pockets to make sure you have everything. Then, you take a couple of deep breaths and walk out of Lauren’s room. As soon as Taylor catches sight of you, she jerks straight up but Lauren gives her such an angry look that she slumps back into her chair again, only smirking. You give her a quick wave, trying to pretend that nothing happened and then you walk to the door.

Lauren’s right in front of you as you turn to say goodbye.

“Um – I’ll… I’ll talk to you later?” you say.

“Yes,” Lauren says. “Yes, definitely. I mean – yeah, probably.  Have fun in class.” She frowns a little at herself for saying that, because obviously both of you know that class won’t be _that_ exciting, but she decides to let it slip.

“Thanks,” you mumble. “Ok, you just… well, you know, take it easy and all that.”

“Right,” she says.

“Right…” you reply, feeling a little breathless for some reason.

Her eyes lock into yours. She’s still in her the shirt and shorts that she slept in. Her hair is messy and her cheeks are a little red. Your breathing goes a little uneven, because you realize that all you want to do is step up to her and fucking pull her into you already, but you can’t because her sister is right there and because you shouldn’t want to anyway and because she’s Lauren and you can’t ever wrap your head around exactly what is going on between you.

She shifts, taking the tiniest step forward in your direction and you panic at the movement, mumbling a quick _bye_ in her direction, before taking off in a hurry into the direction of the elevators at the end of the hallway—

—but not before you can hear Taylor start to laugh out loud and saying, “You two are such idiots…”

You shut yourself off for it, before your mind can trick you into agreeing with her.

XXXII.

You decide to call Ally back, because you’re way too early for class, so you end up in the Starbucks on campus and pull out your phone. She picks up right away.

“Hey,” you say. “I saw that you called. Is something wrong?”

“Oh, no,” she says quickly, “Sorry for calling you so early. I went for a run and I thought that maybe you’d be awake already. I just wanted to ask you how you were doing. How’s everything with Lauren?”

You take a sharp inhale. “About that…” you say. “Do you – are you free to have coffee before class? I’m at Starbucks.”

Ten minutes later, Ally’s right in front of you, waiting for you to speak up. You stall a little, pushing your paper coffee cup around on the table in front of you, not really wanting to admit to anything yet. But at the same time, you _have_ to talk someone about it. Ally doesn’t ask you anything, just waits until you’re ready – which is even worse because you don’t even know where to start. After another moment of awkward silence, you finally push yourself to look up.

“So…” you say. “I think I have to tell you something…”

Ally waits.

“Lauren – and I—” It sounds weird. “Well, we’re kind of, we’ve been…” You stammer your way through it. “We’re… _hanging out_ , I guess.”

Ally frowns. She opens her mouth as though to say something, before closing it again, holding herself back. She shifts a little in her chair, squeezing her coffee cup, and then a slow grin spreads around her lips as she says, “Mila – what does that even mean?”

You feel your cheeks redden, because she kind of has a valid point.

“I don’t know,” you mumble.   

And you really _don’t_. You don’t know what any of it means. All you know is that you feel completely flustered talking about, thinking about it even, and you have absolutely no idea _why_. It’s not like you’ve got any reason to. It’s not like there is actually anything substantial between you and Lauren besides the fact that you’ve had sex on every square meter of the locker room… and the fact that you may have spent a couple of nights sleeping in her bed now… and the fact that you’re kind of talking to each other instead of just arguing… and the fact that maybe you—

“Do you like Lauren?”

You’re so startled by Ally’s question that you almost knock your coffee cup over, grabbing it just in time for it to spill over the table.

“W-what?” you choke out, your voice a little high-pitched. “No, Ally – God, _no._ We just – it doesn’t mean anything, you know that. We just have a thing, _had_ a thing, I mean – it doesn’t – it’s not anymore…”

“A thing…?”

“Yes,” you blurt out. “A thing. An agreement. A friends-with-benefits kind of thing – without the friends part. Whatever. We just had sex a couple of times. That’s it. She’s – I’m not – we’re not. It’s just a game, Ally. To both of us. Obviously.”

Ally bites down on her lip.

“I don’t _like_ Lauren,” you hear yourself add, before you can bring yourself to a halt. “That’s just ridiculous. Are you out of your mind? I mean, yeah, she’s attractive – I’ll be the first person to admit that. She’s, like, _really_ attractive—”

Ally’s eyebrows shoot up.

“—and sure, she’s a decent center forward, too. I know that. I’ve learned to appreciate that. I mean, I should, as team captain—” You’re rambling. You know you’re rambling, but you can’t really stop. “—and I mean, she’s kind of funny sometimes, and she’s really great with her siblings, you can tell that she really loves Chris and Taylor a lot – and yes, maybe she does have ridiculous soft skin in the morning—”

Ally’s eyes widen even further.

“—but that doesn’t mean I _like_ her.” You sputter the word out, feeling it burn a little in your throat, before quickly adding, “Come on, we’re not fifteen years old.” 

Ally is staring at you like she’s never seen you in her entire life. She coughs, before muttering under her breath, “Clearly.”

Your cheeks are blazing hot. You look around, trying to figure out whether or not other people are paying attention to your conversation. No one has even looked up. Your exhale is shaky and drawn-out.

You think of Lauren’s face when you showed up at the hospital right after the accident. You think of sleeping next to her, curled into her side as she stroked circles into your skin. You think of the smile she gave you when you were standing in the doorway to the Library café. You think about the way she called you _fucking gorgeous_ not even an hour ago. You think of lying on the field last night with Lauren, looking up into the darkness and thinking about what you would do if you wouldn’t be playing field hockey—

If you didn’t play field hockey, you’d let Lauren distract you for days and days on end.

The realization hits you harder than you’d expected.  

“I mean…” you mumble, looking up at Ally again, your voice shaking a little. “I can’t _like_ Lauren, right?”

Ally shakes her head in disbelief. “Mila, what is the big deal?”

You bite your lip, letting out a frustrating sigh. “She’s Lauren.”

Again, Ally waits for it, knowing you will fill the space where her question could be all by yourself, anyway – and you do.

“She’s so complicated,” you manage to get out. “She does whatever the hell she likes without ever explaining _why_ , and she’s such a fucking bitch sometimes, Ally, you have no idea. It’s all just a game to her, it’s all just a game because she slept with me and then she fucking slept with Cameron too, and—”

Your voice breaks.

You did not expect it, but in less than a second, you can feel tears start to well up behind your eyes, burning and teasing, forcing all of the hurt inside your chest – all that you’ve been trying to push down for weeks – up through your throat. It’s like you can’t breathe. All the panic and stress works its way through your body like an icy wave, as you think of _everything_ that Lauren has done to you and everything you’ve done to her and how it’s not a game for you, no matter how much you try to convince yourself, it’s not a game and you want to stop her from playing , stop her from hurting you—

Ally is right next to you, pulling you into her and you fall against her shoulder.

“Shh,” she whispers in your ear. “I know, Mila. It’s ok. You’re ok.”

She keeps talking to you and stroking through your hair until you’ve calmed yourself down enough to look up at her again.

“It’s too much,” you say, through your tears. “With Lauren it’s always too much.”

Ally just nods. “I know, Mila. I know.”

XXXIII.

You end up skipping your lecture in favor of continuing your conversation with Ally. It takes a while for you to completely calm down, but Ally’s always been a voice of reason and after the fifth or sixth time that she’s assured you that things are going to be ok no matter what, you start to believe her a little.

This is what it comes down to:

You probably like Lauren a little bit.

Despite the fact that she’s messed with your head more than anyone has ever done before, you probably like her a little bit – and there is nothing you can do about it unfortunately. The problem is that you don’t really know Lauren. You don’t know how she ended up at UCLA, you don’t know why she’s sometimes the most ambitious field hockey player in the entire world and sometimes doesn’t seem to give a damn about it, not even bothering to show up to practice. On top of that, she has a concussion.

Which brings you to the very confusing yet seemingly logical conclusion that maybe you should try to not let things with Lauren get any more complicated. You need to normalize things. Stop the whole flirting-and-making-out-and-occasionally-wanting-to-rip-her-clothes-off-her-body thing that you’ve got going on. Maybe you should quit sleeping in her bed. Maybe you should stop thinking about the fact that you probably like her a little bit.

Maybe you should try being friends.

In theory, it’s a great idea. In practice, not so much.

XXXIV.

In the next week or so, you try to busy yourself with studying as much as you can. You’ve got exams coming up right before Christmas and you haven’t paid attention to your lectures in weeks, so it’s time for you to step it up. You spend most of the time outside of hockey practice in the library, trying to concentrate. You’ve also got one more game to play before winter break and Martin seems intent on making sure you win it – ever since Lauren’s accident, hockey’s been a little bit challenging for all of you. Either way, you really need to concentrate.

The one problem is that you and Lauren text each other now.   

You haven’t seen her for an entire week, already, because you’ve forced yourself to focus on your exams and Lauren should try to focus on her recovery – but it’s challenging, especially when pretty much every single thing she says to you is drenched in innuendo.

You’re studying with Normani at the top floor of the library on Friday afternoon, with your phone in your hand, biting down hard on your lip, because your stomach flips at every single notification, when Normani slams her books down on the table.

“Ok, that’s it,” she says. “Who are you texting?”

You aren’t paying attention because Lauren just texted you _what are you doing rn?_ so you miss half of her question. “Hm?”

She shakes her head. “Unbelievable…”

That makes you drop your phone. “What?”

“Look at you,” Normani grins. “Try to keep it in your pants, will you? We’re in public.”

You feel your cheeks flush red. “ _Mani!_ ”

“Hey,” your friend says, putting her hands up defense. “I’m not the one sitting here staring at my phone, all lit up like a fucking Christmas tree because someone is sending me nudes while I’m supposed to be studying.”

“ _Oh my God_ —” Your eyes go wide at the thought. “Mani, seriously – that is _not_ at all what’s going on. It’s not – it’s nothing special.”

“Well, who is it then?” Normani says, grin spreading over her face. “If it’s nothing special.”

You feel your stomach clench, but you force yourself to look Normani in the eyes. It _is_ nothing special. So, there’s no reason why you can’t—

“It’s Lauren,” you blurt out and Normani’s eyes go wide.

For a moment, she doesn’t say anything, but then she leans back into her chair, letting her head fall back into her neck as she laughs out loud. “Oh my God, _of course_ it is – Mila, you little heartbreaker.”

“No, no,” you stammer. “It’s not like that.”

Normani gives you a look.

“No, really,” you try to tell her. “It really doesn’t mean anything. We’re just—”

Right as you say it, your phone buzzes again and both you and Normani stare at it. You quickly unlock the screen and try to ignore the sharp tug at the back of your stomach when you read Lauren’s words: _because I kind of have an idea…_

“Ok – just give me one second…” you tell Normani and her face lights up as if she’s just won the lottery, but before she can say anything you hold up your hand. “It’s not what you think – but just – I need to…”

You trail off and Normani bites her lip hard as though to keep herself from saying anything. You stare at Lauren’s texts.

_what are you doing rn? because I kind of have an idea…_

You find yourself texting back before you’ve even fully thought about it.

_I’m at the library with Mani. I need to study._

It takes Lauren less than five seconds to type up an answer.

_meet me outside in ten? we can go study together._

You look up at Normani. She’s shaking her head at you. “You and Lauren… un-fucking-believable.” She grins. “So what did she say?”

You turn your phone around so Normani can read the last couple of text messages. Her grin only widens. Then she looks back up at you. “You’re going to ditch me for Lauren Jauregui right now, aren’t you?”

“No,” you stammer. “No – I’m not – I mean, I don’t even know why she’s texting me. I don’t need to see her. I’m here with you right now. I’m already studying.”

You push your phone towards the end of the table and pick up your pen again, focusing on your textbook. Your head feels hot and fuzzy. You’re vaguely aware of the fact that Normani just keeps staring at you, but you try not to meet her eyes.

After thirty seconds of awkward silence and you trying to find the right page in your textbook, Normani says, “Oh my God, stop being stubborn already, Mila.”

You look up. “Uh – what?”

Normani rolls her eyes. “Get your ass out of here and go meet up with your girlfriend. I promise I’ll get over it.”  

Your cheeks heat up even more. “She’s not my – that’s just ridiculous. Mani, I literally _just_ told you that it doesn’t mean anything. I don’t even know why she—”

Normani waves her hand in your direction, dismissing your words. “Shh, don’t even try to deny it. It’s all over your pretty face.”

You don’t know how to respond to that, so you just take a couple of deep breaths, trying to ignore the way your heart is racing in your chest. Your eyes fall on your phone.

“It’s just studying, right?” you mumble. “We’re going to study. Nothing wrong with that. Studying.”

Normani gives you a look. “Are you kidding me – I’m not even…” She sighs. “Get out of here, Mila.”

“Ok, fine – I’ll just—” You start putting your books in your bag, trying not to meet Normani’s eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then? For the game?”

Normani just smiles. “If you make it out of Lauren’s bed, sure.”

Your stomach flips again, but you try to ignore it. Instead you put your leather jacket on and shuffle around a little awkwardly, before finally realizing that you’ve really got everything and there’s no reason to hang around longer. You quickly wave at Normani.

Right before you’ve reached the staircase leading down, Normani yells out, “You better make me the maid of honor at the wedding, Mila…”

You bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling.

XXXV.

She’s outside already, leaning against her car, her eyes on you, as you start making your way down the steps in front of the library. As soon as you catch sight of her, she runs her hand through her hair and looks up at you with _that_ smile on her face, and you can feel the shivers start to run down your spine.

God – it’s not even been a week since you last saw her and this is how she’s making you feel already.

You push your hands down in the pockets of your jackets and give her a smile, trying to pretend that you’re heart isn’t racing right out of your chest at the mere sight of her.

“Hey,” you say when you’re in front of her.

“Hi,” she replies.

For a moment, you just stand there, smiling at each other. Then, Lauren holds open the door to the passenger seat.

“Where are we going?” you say, not getting into her car yet.

She runs her tongue over her bottom lip and then she says, “I already told you, we’re going studying.”

You can’t help but raise your eyebrows. “You and I are going… studying? Like, actually _studying_?”

“Don’t tempt me…” Lauren says. “It’s already difficult enough for me to concentrate with you wearing those shorts.”

You can feel the nerves flowing through your chest at her words, but for some reason the way she’s looking you over makes you feel a little bold as well.

(It might have something to do with the fact that she very deliberately wants to hang out with you, which has your heart all hot and excited – but you’re not one to think specifics at the moment.)

Either way, all you do is step forward until you’re right in front of her, and then you say, “I guess I should wear them more often then – or maybe not at all.”

She bites her lip and you quickly get into her car, because this is doing nothing for _normalizing things_ between you and Lauren, but you just can’t help it. Especially not when she’s looking at you like that.

She gets into the seat next to you and throws you a smile.

“What?” you say.

She shakes her head. “I just can’t believe you agreed to come with me right now.”

You look away from her, down to your lap because you honestly can’t really believe it either. This is you and _Lauren_. Hanging out. Like, properly hanging out. Not because you have to sit next to someone on the bus, so it might as well be her. Not because you want to make sure that she doesn’t pass out from her concussion. Not because you need to apologize to her or she needs to apologize to you or because any other reason is forcing you to be together.

The only reason that you’re here right now is because she straight up asked and you actually fucking enjoy being with her – even though you don’t like to admit it and it’s complicated and messy and tense most of the time.

You just can’t stay away from her.

—and maybe you should tell her.

“Maybe I just can’t stay away from you,” you say, before you can stop yourself.

Her eyes go wide and she flushes so hard that it sends an entire hot wave of emotion through your body. You smile at her as she nervously runs her hand through her hair again.

“Oh—” she mumbles. “That’s – well, yeah, I mean… I, um – let’s go then.”

She abruptly switches on the engine and pulls out of the parking lot. You keep looking at her while she is clearly trying very hard not to let you see her smile, and you can’t help but feel like your Friday just got a hell of a lot more interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> Hey lovely people,
> 
> How are we liking things so far? :)  
> Let me know what you think!  
> I hope you all have a great day!
> 
> -Blake


	13. 12

XXXVI.

You’ve never been to the LACMA.

It’s the largest art museum in the western United States and you’ve been attending UCLA for a year and a half already, and yet you’ve never even set foot on museum row before today. Lauren seems to know her way around, though.

“So this is the mysterious place you’re taking me to?” you ask her, as you get out of the car. “A museum?”

She grabs your wrist and starts pulling you along, past the people gathered in front of the different museums. You try to ignore the tension in your stomach at the fact that she’s basically holding your hand.    

“I told you,” she says, grinning. “We’re going studying. Besides, it’s not just _a museum_ , Cabello. It’s the freaking LACMA.”

There’s an air of excitement around her that makes your stomach flutter. When you make your way up to the entrance, Lauren turns back to you, pulls her wallet out of the pocket of her jacket and says, “Here, take my student card.  If we’re lucky they’ll think you take classes with me and they’ll let you in for free.”

You stare at the card. “But what about you?”

Lauren doesn’t answer, just pulls you along through the sliding doors into the entrance area. She looks around and then walks up to a guy with messy dark hair and glasses who is guarding what you assume is the way into the first exposition area. At the sight of Lauren, the guy looks up and smiles.

“Jauregui,” he says, grinning. “Aren’t you sick of this place yet?”

Lauren just smiles at him. “Never, Matt. You know that.” She softly nudges your arm. “Matt, this is Camila. Think you can let us in already?”

She touches your arm again and you quickly hold up the student card, even though you have no idea what is going on. Matt doesn’t even bother to look at the picture on the card. He just shrugs and steps aside.

“You should check out the new Picasso and Rivera exhibition,” Matt says. “You’ll love it.”

“I’m sure I will,” Lauren says. “Thanks, Matt! I’ll talk to you later, yeah?”

She pulls you along with her into the exhibition hall, while Matt busies himself with scanning tickets for a couple of other visitors. You can’t exactly hide your surprise at the way Lauren seems to know exactly where she’s going.

“So,” you say. “You’re quite the regular here, I assume?”

She smiles at you and it’s so genuine and happy that you kind of get lost in it for a moment.

“It’s the best place,” she says. “They’ve got _so much_ , Camz – you have no idea. I’ve spent entire days here already and I still haven’t seen everything.”

Your stomach flips a little at the nickname, but mostly because Lauren just seems so goddamn excited. You don’t think you’ve ever seen her like this.

“Ok,” she says. “Here’s the thing. I need to write a paper for one of my classes on modernism. So I’m honestly here to study a little bit, to do some research.” She smiles. “Obviously, you don’t need to join me if you don’t want to. I know you probably have your own essays and exams to get through, so you could always just go to the museum café to study and then we’ll catch up later. But—” Her smile widens even more and she takes the slightest step closer to you. “—you will be missing out on one of the greatest art museums in the world...” Her eyes lock into yours. “… and it would definitely be more fun to spend time together with you.”

She looks so absolutely amazing right now – so completely relaxed and in her element and confident and _gorgeous_ – and you’ve already made up your mind of course. You know you shouldn’t tease, but where’s the fun in that?

“Hm, I don’t know…” you mumble, biting your lip and looking down at your feet. “Art’s not really my thing. I think I’ll just go to the café.”

Her face falls.

“Oh—” she says, frowning. “Sorry, I thought—”

“Yeah,” you say, pushing your hands down your pockets. “I probably should have stayed at the library with Mani, actually…”

She backs away from you a little and her hand shoots up to her hair as she runs her fingers through it nervously. The fact that she looks so genuinely affected almost makes you break right out of it.

“Sorry,” Lauren says, a little breathless. “I guess I… I mean – fuck, I feel kind of bad now… I guess I—” The corner of your mouth curls upwards and she snaps out of it right away. “Oh my God, you’re fucking with me, aren’t you?”

You burst out laughing and her face breaks completely.

“You – God, Camila…” Her hand shoots up to her hair again. “Way to give a girl a heart attack.”

You can’t stop laughing. “You should have seen your face.”

She pushes you against your shoulder, trying to keep a straight face, but then she cracks up as well and her fingers hook in the fabric of your jacket and she pulls on it, making you accidentally stumble right into her. You’re both laughing so hard and then all you see is the green of her eyes, right before you lean up and press your lips right to her jaw, wrapping your arms around her neck, hugging her close to you.

“I’m sorry,” you say, laughing in her neck. “I couldn’t resist.”

You press yourself against her a little more and her hand falls down from your shoulder to your waist. It feels so goddamn good to be close to her that you can’t really help yourself – you press your lips against her cheek again, kissing her softly, before breaking away.

She’s blushing hard but she’s got a bold smile on her face at the same time.

“All right, trouble,” she says. “Let’s go test your basic art history knowledge, shall we?”

“You’re the one who has to study,” you say. “I can just lean back and have fun.”  

She grins, making her way into the exhibition room. Then she turns around and winks at you. “Oh, we’ll definitely have fun…”

There’s a sharp tug at the back of your stomach and you can feel yourself flush. Lauren just grins at you and extends her hand. “Let’s go.”

XXXVII.

You spend two and a half hours looking at Lauren instead of at the sculptures and paintings.

It’s probably a shame, because she’s showing you the most important pieces of the entire museum, talking your ears off about _saturation_ and _negative space_ and _pentimenti_ , whatever the hell that may be, but all you notice are her legs and her cheekbones and the curve of her lips and the green of her eyes. Every single thing she says passes right over your head, because you only register how her voice goes a little husky whenever she loses herself in her explanations, how it is low and raspy and entirely captivating – you’re pretty sure that Lauren could say the most boring, mundane things to you and you’d still feel shivers down your spine if she’d say them in that tone.

You pass through endless exhibition rooms – from sculptures to paintings, from ancient Greek and Roman art to photography, from Renaissance to contemporary – and every single time you enter a new part of the museum Lauren’s face lights up _again_ as she grabs your arm to point out which pieces she likes best. She looks like she’s won ten freaking field hockey games in a row and you can’t help but stare at her because of it.

You had no idea. There’s a whole world outside of field hockey for her that makes her just as fucking excited – and you had no idea.

After you’ve visited the regular collection, you spend a lot of time in the Picasso and Rivera exhibition halls and Lauren takes out her notebook to write down some ideas for her paper. You just lean back against one of the walls and watch her examine the paintings up close, slight frown of concentration on her face, scribbling her pages full of notes.

When she comes up to you again, you can’t help but smile. “You really love this, don’t you?”

“This museum?” she says, smiling back at you. “It’s the fucking best. I pretty much spent my entire first week at university walking around here.”

You look over her shoulder as she scribbles down another note on _the intersection of the Mediterranean and Pre-Columbian worlds_ and the _structures of the arts of antiquity_ , before she says, without looking up. “Are you having a good time? Do you like seeing all this?”

You stare at her – the sharp line of her jaw, the darkness of her eyelashes, her pale skin, flushed with excitement – and you say, “I love seeing this.”  

She turns her face to look at you and then softly smiles. “What was your favorite?”

It takes you a moment to realize that she’s talking about the paintings and that you probably shouldn’t say _your eyes_ even though that’s the very first thing that pops into your head.

“Oh,” you mumble. “Um…”

You have really not been paying that much attention to all the paintings, but you want to give Lauren a proper answer so you think hard and then stammer out, “I forgot what it’s called. It had a French title. Something with an elephant.”

Lauren smiles. “ _Le Cauchemar de l’Elephant Blanc._ ”

You’re a little taken aback by her pronouncing the title flawlessly. Your breath hitches in your throat because it sounds kind of sexy – but you immediately try to push that thought down, because she’s trying to make conversation and your mind is drifting off to inappropriate things.

“Why’d you like it?” she says.

You try to visualize the painting again. “I liked the bright colors and the… movement, I guess? I mean – I don’t really know how to talk about it. It’s a still image, of course, but it still seemed so… dynamic? God – I sound like a complete idiot.”

Her eyes lock into yours. “No, you don’t. Matisse is actually one of my favorite painters.”

“Really?”

She nods and then takes a deep breath. She takes her eyes away from yours again, looking down, but her voice is completely clear when she says, “My favorite painting by him is a painting called _La Femme au Chapeau_ , the Woman with Hat. It – it always reminds me of my mother.”

In less than a second, the tension shifts. The air between you becomes a little heavier; you don’t talk about these things with Lauren. The last time you tried to ask her about it, at _The Library_ café a week ago, she shut you down as soon as the topic of her family came up.

You want to bring it up again, but you don’t dare to, so instead you ask, “Can we go see it?”

Lauren shakes her head. “It’s at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art.”

You’re quiet for a moment. The thought is in your head right away, but it’s ridiculous so you don’t really want to voice it. But as the tension shifts again, you breathe it out, anyway. “We could still go see it sometime…”

She turns to you. “You want to go to San Francisco with me?”

You bite your lip, because you don’t want to admit it. You don’t want to admit to anything because she’s _Lauren_ and you know you shouldn’t, but you can’t help it. You smile through your nerves. “I don’t know. We could do it. It’s not that far.”

She stares at you, the corner of her mouth slowly curling upward. “You’d spend six hours in a car with me just to go look at some painting and then drive back again?”

You push yourself to be a little bolder. “We could stay at a hotel.”

At that, Lauren’s smile breaks through. She runs her hand through her hair and leans into you a little closer. Her eyes flick down to your mouth. “The San Francisco Museum of Modern Art and you in a hotel room bed – if that is not a fucking golden combination, I don’t know what is.”

You want to kiss her. You want to kiss her so hard that it almost hurts. You’re completely oblivious to the fact that you’re still in the middle of a public exhibition hall in a museum, surrounded by dozens of other people – you just want to kiss her.

But instead, Lauren leans back again, moving slowly away from you.

“Come on,” she says then.

“Where are we going?”

She smiles. “I’m going to take you out for dinner.”

XXXVIII.

She takes you to the beach.

When you call her out on it, all she does is shrug and say, “You like being close to the ocean, so yeah… Besides, I know a nice place.”

The fact that she remembered what you told her last week makes you feel a million different things at the same time. If you’re honest, this entire afternoon has kind of been a rollercoaster already. You still have no idea what you’re doing, but you do know that you’re enjoying it a lot more than you thought you would – the smiles and the banter and her goddamn eyes – you actually _like_ hanging out with Lauren, whether you fully want to admit it to yourself or not yet.   

She takes you to a Thai place that is only a block or so away from the beach. It’s small and constantly a little crowded because there’s barely enough place for twenty customers. The wall decorations are terrible and you have to sit at tiny wooden tables, on squeaky benches – but there are strings with hundreds of light bulbs attached to the ceiling that hang all around you and you have never had such amazing Thai food in your _entire_ life.

You and Lauren spend the entire meal bumping legs and staring at each other, while you take bites of each other’s food, quietly moaning at how fucking good everything tastes. You can’t stop looking at the way her eyes reflect the light. You can’t stop brushing your knee into hers on purpose.

You can’t stop all your feelings from rushing through your chest.

After you’re done with dinner, there’s a brief moment in which you consider that you should probably go home and get a couple more hours of studying for your International Relations exams in, but your mouth is quicker than your brain.

“Do you want to go to the beach?” you ask Lauren, before you convince yourself into going home already.

She just smiles and puts her jacket on.

You spend most of the walk on the beach in silence, just enjoying the nice afterglow of everything, the museum and the dinner and _this_ – just walking along the shoreline while the tourists are packing up their beach bags and the sun starts falling over the edge of the horizon. You take your shoes off and let the waves roll up over your ankles and Lauren does the same. Sometimes your fingers accidentally brush against hers.

“Do you miss Miami?”

Lauren looks up at you. She thinks about it for a little while, and then she says, “Yeah, I guess I do. Sometimes.”

“What do you miss about it?”

Again, she doesn’t answer right away. You don’t want to push anything. You don’t want to ask her any questions that might frustrate or upset her, especially not now that you’re finally kind of getting along with each other doing something _normal_ , but at the same time you can’t help but curious.   

“I miss… feeling at home,” she says then.

You don’t mean to, but you come to a halt as you turn to look at her. There’s a serious expression on her face and for a slight moment you feel a little panicked, because you don’t want to go there if she’s not ready, you don’t want to force it – but then, Lauren extends her hand to you.

“Can we sit down for a sec?” she says.

“Of course,” you respond, before quickly taking her hand and interlacing your fingers with hers.

It’s just a friendly gesture, you tell yourself. It doesn’t have to mean anything that she wants to hold your hand. It doesn’t mean anything at all.

Lauren pulls you along and then sits down in the sand. She pulls her legs up and wraps her arms around them, but she doesn’t let go of your hand.

She’s softly playing with your fingers when she says, “It’s a little weird, you know. Miami is my home, but I can’t really go back anymore and I don’t know if I will any time soon. So sometimes I don’t really know if it still counts.”

You let her words fall over you, not really sure how to reply. She stares out over the sand at the ocean.

“We left three months ago,” she says then. “Chris and Taylor and I. We’ve been here for three months, already, but I still think about Miami every single day.”

Her hand falls still in yours. 

“Lauren—”

“I hate talking about it,” she says, before you can say anything else. “God – I really fucking hate it. I never know how to explain it and it fucks me up and it makes me emotional and I never get it right. I’m never able to explain it properly, but I think – I mean, I know I could – I want to… but please don’t—”

She falls silent without finishing her sentence.

“Please don’t…?” you ask.

She takes a shaky breath and her fingers press a little harder into yours. “Please don’t judge me.”

A heavy shiver runs down your back. “Laur,” you say. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

She’s silent for a while, just breathing out into the air. It’s slowly getting darker around you as the sun falls deeper into the ocean.

Then, Lauren says, “She talked about running away a lot, my mother.”

She runs her thumb over the inside of your hand and all you feel is the way you breathe into the same direction, into the ocean and the sun and the air, and all you register is the soft wind and the sand between your toes and her hand in yours – and then only her voice.

“When we were younger, she’d still bring us along to her psychiatrist appointments,” Lauren says. “We’d sit in the waiting room and we just played games on the floor. We had no idea. Sometimes when she got out she was better and sometimes she was worse. We’d either get five scoops of ice cream on our cones each after one of her appointments or she’d only scream when we drove back home. Did you know that one in nine Americans over twelve years old is on anti-depressants?”

Your throat tightens.

“I’ve read so much about it,” Lauren continues, not meeting your eyes. “Books and articles and studies and research papers. I’ve read every fucking thing on bipolar disorder that I could get my hands on – and none of it makes any sense.” Her breathing is a little shaky. “I know it’s not her fault – I really do know that, and I feel so—” Her voice breaks. “I feel so goddamn awful about it, because I’ve read everything and I didn’t know how to help, and then three months ago we just, I just and—”

Her fingernails dig hard into the skin of your palm as she says, “She talked about running away all the time. We’d just be having dinner and my dad would make jokes about something that had happened at work or something like that and she’d suddenly say ‘I’m running away’. She’d say ‘I packed my bags and I’m leaving tonight’ – but she never did. She’d just stand there, shaking all over – and now,” Her jaw tenses. “—and now we are the ones who left and she’s still there.”

She’s silent, staring hard into the distance. There’s a low drumming in your ear.

“I know it’s an awful thing to do,” Lauren says, then. “I know I’m awful for leaving her behind – but I just… I didn’t know what to do anymore – and my siblings, I didn’t want them to grow up feeling like they weren’t – like they didn’t belong or—”

It rips right through you.

“Baby,” you breathe out, not even caring about using the term of affection so deliberately. You bring your fingers up to her face and stroke her hair behind her ear.

“Who does that—” she chokes out. “What kind of fucked up person just leaves their mother behind – I know it’s not ok, but I – _I just didn’t know what to do anymore_ —”

“Lauren,” you say.

She turns her face to look at you and you’re startled by the expression on her face – by all the emotion. There’s a panicked glint in her eyes as if she’s waiting for the blow to fall, as if she’s waiting for you to either walk away or yell at her or hurt her in any other way and it makes your entire chest sting with pain because all you want to do is move closer to her. “I’m not judging you.”

Her bottom lip trembles a little. “You don’t even know me.”

The stinging increases, but you push through it, push right through her defenses because it’s been enough and you’re not letting yourself get closed out again, not when she’s finally letting you in.

“I do,” you say and you let your hand fall to her cheek. “Baby, I’m not going anywhere.”

She falls into you, then. She doesn’t cry and neither do you, but her exhale hitches against your throat as she leans into your side and you just try to hold her as close to you as you can. She breathes long and slow. You both breathe long and slow, letting the time fade the tension and hurt into something else.

Then, Lauren breathes into your skin, “I don’t want you to go anywhere.”

“Good,” you say, “Because I’m not.”

She presses her lips into your neck, kissing you. It makes your skin heat up a little.

For the longest time you just sit there, not saying anything, and it seems like it’s ok. There’s a lot that you don’t talk about, a lot of questions and a lot of things unsaid – about what is going on between you, about how you’re both feeling, about what she just told you about her mother – but you don’t have to talk about everything all at once.

You just want to sit near the side of the ocean with your arms around a girl, watching the day turn into night – and just, for a moment, let it be that.

XXXIX.

“There’s one more thing I want to show you,” Lauren says, when she holds the car door open for you to get in. “It’s back at the museum, but I wanted to wait until it was dark.”

You can’t help but smile. “Let’s go, then.”

It’s so obvious that you are insanely surprised that you pretty much missed it when you walked up to the LACMA entrance this afternoon. The night’s darkness really makes the difference though, putting extra emphasis on the rows of street lamps that are lined up right at the front of the building.

Lauren smiles at you, walking up between the lights. “Welcome to _Urban Light_ – one of my favorite sculptures in the world.”

You stare at it and you can’t stop smiling. It’s so beautiful. The angles, the lines, the scale, the bright lamps on top of the iron shafts – everything.

“The sculptor, Chris Burden, collected lamp posts for seven years,” Lauren says. “Can you believe that?” She walks into the middle and leans back against one of them. You step into the installation as well, coming closer. “Most of them come from the streets of Southern California. He first lined them up right outside of his studio.” She smiles. “Then, one day, Michael Goven, the director of the LACMA visited his place and he thought: this would be perfect right in front of the entrance. An installation of street lamps right in front of an art museum.”

She beams at you and once again you’re caught by her eyes and by her voice and by her goddamn _everything._ You take another step closer, until you’re right in front of her. Your skin feels a little tight, a little heated.

Lauren smiles. “What are you thinking about?”

You can’t take your eyes off her. “I’m just wondering – have you ever kissed a girl against a sculpture before?”

Her lips part and you only catch about a second of her eyes widening in surprise, and then you wrap your arms around her neck and press your mouth against hers. She gasps a little, before pulling hard on your hips and opening her mouth, deepening the kiss. You fall completely into her, pushing her back against the surface of the street lamp, while your mind spins and all you feel is her lips and her tongue and her hands, pulling on you, drifting under your shirt a little—

Fuck – you forgot how fucking _good_ kissing Lauren is. It makes your entire body tense up, while hot shivers run down your spine.

After a couple more moments, you force yourself to break away, though. You slowly step back again, relishing in the fact that she looks completely overwhelmed – cheeks flushed, mouth parted, hair messy, eyes on fire.

You softly bite down on your lip. “Well?”

She grins the most confident smile she can manage as she says, “First time for everything, I guess.”

You spend the drive home in heated but comfortable silence. Your eyes keep drifting sideways, only to find Lauren already looking back at you most of the time. Neither of you address it. She drives you all the way home, until you’re right outside your doorstep and she’s standing in front of you again, blushing a little.

“This was fun,” she says.

Your eyes flick down to her lips. “It was.”

“Thanks for – for everything,” she mumbles, before quickly turning around and walking back in the direction of her car.

Right before she reaches the door, she comes to a halt, though. Your heartbeat accelerates, because maybe, just maybe—

She turns around. In less than a second, she’s back in front of you, hooking her arm around your waist as she pulls you into her and kisses you again. Your pulse almost races right out of your chest.

“Good night,” Lauren mumbles against your lips, then.

You’re not able to go to sleep for hours after she’s left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> Hey everyone!
> 
> As always, thank you so much for all your comments and kudos! I love reading your thoughts! Hope you liked this chapter :)  
> Updates may be a little slow the coming weeks because exams are upon me... But I'll try my best!   
> Have a very lovely day!
> 
> -Blake


	14. 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> warning: gets pretty damn explicit

XL.

Dinah corners you the next day, right after you win your final game before the Christmas break.

“So, Mila,” she says casually as she walks out of the locker room showers. “How was your date with Lauren?”

You spin around so quickly that you hit your knee against the bench. “ _What_?”

Dinah grins. “Your date with Lauren. Your sexual study session. Your library booty call. Whatever you want to call it.”

“Dinah—” you sputter. “That’s not – we didn’t – it wasn’t – _how do you even know_?”

“Mani called me.”

“ _What—_ ” you snap again, before turning to Normani. “ _You fucking told her_?”

Normani’s eyes widen in shock at your intense reaction. “Mila, what’s the big deal?”

You feel flushed and heated. Thank God the other girls around you are making enough noise for them not to overhear your conversation.  You stare hard at Dinah and Normani. For some reason the fact they talked about something that happened only between Lauren and you makes you feel very irritated. “It wasn’t a date.”

Dinah grins. “Of course it wasn’t.”

They tease you for at least ten minutes, making jokes and firing question after question at you – to the point where you feel so completely tense and frustrated that you can barely respond anymore. You know that they’re only joking, but it still bothers you. You have no idea what is going on between you and Lauren at the moment and talking about it with your friends would mean acknowledging that something _is_ going on – and you’re not sure if you’re ready to go there yet.

For a moment, your mind wanders back to last night when Lauren softly kissed you right before she drove away and how she looked so goddamn beautiful and you couldn’t help but let yourself fall back against the door for a moment afterwards because you just had to catch your breath and – fuck, who are you kidding – of course _something_ is going on between you.

Still, the smug look on Dinah’s face is enough for you to snap right out of it.

“We’re not _dating_ ,” you cut out for the tenth time.

Dinah’s about to respond, but thankfully, Jessa chooses that specific moment to stand up on one of the benches to announce she and her housemates are throwing a Christmas party that night, finally managing to avert Normani and Dinah’s attention from your blushing face. The whole team’s invited.

At first, you don’t particularly feel like going, but Jessa lives only one block away from your place, and as soon as you overhear her tell Ava that she’s invited Lauren as well, the party is pretty much all you can focus on.

XLI.

“Damn, Mila…” Dinah says when you open the door for her around 10 o’clock to go to Jessa’s together.

You feel yourself blush, suddenly feeling a little overdressed in your short red dress and black heels. You run your hand through your hair self-consciously, quickly checking yourself out in the mirror again. You don’t usually put a lot of attention into your appearance, but tonight you spent almost an hour and a half getting ready. You try not to think about the reason why.

When you arrive at Jessa’s house, Lauren’s not there yet.

You busy yourself with talking to your teammates and swaying your hips a little to the beat of the music, trying not to think about how good it felt to kiss her last night, trying not to think about _anything_ at all. Dinah hands you a drink and you don’t turn it away, because your stomach is tense with nerves and you could use a little bit of liquid confidence.

Jessa’s place is slowly getting crowded as more people arrive. You keep scanning the room, but after about an hour you’re pretty sure she’s not going to show up. It creates a heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach that you try to ignore to the best of your abilities.

You down another red solo cup and then make your way over to the kitchen.

“Mila, are you ok?”

You didn’t realize Ally was standing right next to you. You force a smile. “Yeah, I’m great! How are you? Pretty good party, huh?”

She gives you a look, but before she can answer, you make your way into the living room again.

“Mila,” Ally says. “What is going on?”

“Nothing,” you say, pushing past a couple of guys standing around the music box. “I’m absolutely—”

You come to an abrupt halt as a rush of heat crashes through you, because there she is.

Dressed in a gorgeous black dress with an open back, she’s standing next to the door, talking happily to Normani and Dinah. For a moment, you can’t do anything but stare, fighting the heavy tug at the back of your stomach as you keep realizing over and over in your mind _she’s here she’s here she’s here she’s here._

You don’t notice how the corner of Ally’s mouth turns upwards. You don’t notice how Dinah’s gaze shifts to you and she cracks up. You don’t notice Normani looking over Lauren’s shoulder and saying your name. You don’t notice any of it, because just as all of that happens, Lauren turns and her green eyes lock into yours.

_Fucking hell._

Her mouth parts into a smile as she looks you over. Then, she crosses the small distance between you, until she’s right in front of you.

“Hey,” she says.

“Hi,” you answer, trying not to let your voice waver at her sudden proximity.

She runs her tongue over her bottom lip, before tugging it back with her teeth and then she leans in and kisses you on your cheek as a greeting, her hands pressing lightly into your hips as she moves forward. As she leans back again, she gives you another smile and says, “You couldn’t send me a warning text or something?” You probably look slightly panicked, because she runs the tip of her tongue over her bottom lip again and slowly adds, “Because that dress…”

She doesn’t finish her sentence but you can feel the heat on every word.

Before you can reply, though, Dinah, Normani and Ally all gather around you and you are forced to pull back from Lauren a little. For a little while, you all just make light conversation as Ally asks Lauren how she’s doing and Normani and Dinah keep sharing looks between them that you try to ignore.

But then the music shifts into something more upbeat and Dinah starts singing along with the lyrics. Normani pulls on your wrist, trying to get you to dance with her. You let her lead you into her and you sway your hips to the beat, letting the alcohol and the fact that you feel so much lighter, so much more confident now that she’s here, turn your movements a little bolder. As soon as you catch the look in Lauren’s eyes as she watches you move, your skin burns up like a fire and something in your chest explodes right through your inhibitions—

You pull her into you.

You don’t think about it – you just interlace your fingers through hers and pull her flush against you until she’s got her hands on your hips and her breath hits the skin of your neck and you’re just dancing together, moving to the rhythm of the song. You lose yourself a little in the feeling of her body close to yours, the softness of her skin, the heat in her eyes…   

You can’t stop yourself. Before you know what you’re doing, you lean in close to her ear and whisper, “God – you look so hot.”

You can feel her body tense a little at the blunt statement, but then she whispers back, “I was hoping you’d be here, so…”

It makes your stomach flip, the way she’s more or less implying that she’s only wearing that gorgeous black dress for _you_. You feel like you can no longer think straight anymore – some of it’s the alcohol but most of it is Lauren and the fact that she’s so goddamn close against you that you can swear you can feel her heartbeat.

She hasn’t even been here for ten minutes and you’ve already crossed so many lines that you shouldn’t have crossed. Your _entire_ team is here, watching as you’re not able to stop yourself from pulling Lauren closer into you, from letting your fingers hover over the bare skin of her back. You know you shouldn’t do what you’re doing – it’s way too fucking obvious, for everyone, but you still want to. You want to be as close to her as you possibly can.

She runs her hands up and down your sides, causing heat to spread up your neck, down your stomach, between your thighs and—

—someone bumps hard into you from behind, making you stumble and break away from Lauren.

“Sorry,” the guy mumbles, his eyes hazy as he quickly moves away from you again.

Lauren’s eyes find yours and heavy tension breaks a little. For a moment, you’re both just standing across from each other, blushing a little.

Then, Lauren smiles at you. “Can I get you a drink?”

The moment stretches as neither of you move away. You don’t even realize that she’s asked you a question until her left eyebrow slowly kinks up and she grins at your lack of response.

“Oh,” you say, a little breathless. “Yes, a drink – sure. Thanks.”

Her smile widens. “I’ll be right back.”

You watch her walk into the kitchen, before you turn back, leaning against the wall to steady yourself. You’re breathing is a little ragged, but you can’t stop smiling, can’t stop yourself from feeling speechless, flustered, overwhelmed, confident, turned on—

“Hey, Camila.”

It takes you a moment to realize that someone’s talking to you, but then your vision clears through all the thoughts of Lauren’s hands on your hips and her voice hot in your ear and you realize there’s someone standing next to you, someone with familiar blonde hair and pretty blue eyes and—

—you’re startled out of your haze when you realize with a heavy shock who’s talking to you.

The girl grins at you. “I didn’t think I’d run into you here. You never texted me back after that game you took me to, but I must say it’s a nice surprise…”

It’s the girl from the softball team. You completely forgot her name.

“Hey,” you stammer. “H-how are you?”

It’s Layla, you think. Or maybe Kayla. Fuck – you really don’t know anymore.

“I’m good,” she says. “What about you? How’s your field hockey career coming along?”

Your thoughts are completely clouded by the alcohol and by the tension, but the girl doesn’t seem to notice. She talks to you for a couple of minutes and you’re so shocked by her sudden appearance that you keep answering her questions and keep asking questions back, even though your mind is racing and your chest feels tight and there’s a horrible, stinging, panicked feeling in the center of your stomach that is getting worse with every passing minute. You completely forgot about her. You completely forgot about _everything_ – about this girl, about Cameron, who must be around somewhere, watching as you and Lauren—

Fuck.

Layla or Kayla or whatever her name is keeps talking to you, flirting with you and you don’t know what to do because your eyes keep scanning the room for Lauren, even though there’s a girl right next to you that you slept with for three nights in a row and then never called back. 

Fuck, this is not good. This is not good at all.

You can’t _not_ listen to her, because you feel like you owe it to her for some reason, but at the same time you don’t want Lauren— you don’t want her to see that you’re— not now that everything between you is finally—

_Fuck._

Your eyes fall on the doorway to the kitchen and there she is, two red solo cups in her hand, unreadable expression on her face.

The moment blurs.

Her eyes lock into yours and for a second, it’s like she’s spit you right in your face – the harshness in her gaze, the straight line of her mouth. She just keeps staring at you, not moving. Your head is spinning and your vision is unclear and your entire perception of time is off, and then all you can see is Lauren walking straight up to Cameron – red lipstick and black dress and _you are nothing but a game to me_ pulsing right in your direction even though she’s on the other side of the room. _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._ There’s a low drumming in your ears as minutes pass and the girl next to you moves a little closer in your space and Cameron smiles her widest smile at Lauren and takes the drink that was meant for _you_.

Your stomach clenches as you watch them talk, minute after minute after minute. Your hands get sweaty. There are cold shivers of panic running under your skin. You feel tense and angry and jealous and confused, because you’re not even doing anything, you’re just talking to someone else and Lauren is acting as if it’s much worse, as if you suddenly don’t even _exist_ anymore, and it burns in the center of your chest.

“… are you ok?”

You don’t answer. It feels like a million needles are being dragged all over your body at the same time, tearing your skin apart. Lauren smiles at Cameron, leans in closer, eyes flicking down to her mouth, eyes flicking up again, over Cameron’s shoulder into your direction, making sure you’re watching – and then she leans in kisses her right in front of you.

Something _snaps_ – right in the very center of your body.

Anger rips right through you, burning your skin apart. You don’t realize what is happening, what you’re doing, but one moment you’re still leaning against the wall and the next moment you tear yourself away from everything, crashing through the masses of people, through the hallway until you’re outside. Your entire body is shaking and your throat feels tight and you want to go home. You want to go home and never think about anything ever again, but you can’t move. You’re paralyzed and trembling and you feel like you’re going to pass out, like all the hurting in your body is just going to explode and you can’t—

“Camz…”

You spin around and there she is.

“ _Fuck off,_ ” you snap at her. Your voice has never sounded like this before.

“Camz, I didn’t—”

She swears when you start walking away from her, into the night, into the direction of your house. You’re so fucking angry that you can barely see where you’re going. She follows you and you increase your speed, walking faster, until you’re almost running, but she keeps catching up, pulling on your arm, trying to get you to slow down. You force your way through it, force your way through the streets until you’re in front of your house, fumbling with your keys.

“Camila, I—”

You turn around and slap her right in her face.

She gasps, eyes glinting with tears. For a moment, you just stare at each other.

The adrenaline spikes in your veins.

You raise your hand again, trembling with anger, ready to fucking fight her off of you if she doesn’t leave you alone _right now_ , but before you can do anything, Lauren slaps your wrist away and then she shoves you back against the front door and kisses you hard. Your head slams into the door, but Lauren kisses you so roughly that you don’t feel the pain, don’t feel anything but her mouth and her hands and her tongue. You bite down hard on her bottom lip and she breaks away for the briefest moment, wincing in pain, before pushing your hands up next to your head and kissing you again. You moan loudly, letting yourself fall into her for a moment before shoving her off of you.

“ _Leave me alone_ ,” you lash out.

“Open the door,” she counters.

Then her mouth is on yours again and you fall into the door, pushing her off of you only to turn around and stumble inside. Her hands are everywhere – on your thighs, your hips, your breasts. You stumble into your bedroom, kissing her as hard as you can, forcing your body even closer to hers. Your vision blurs as Lauren presses you into the door, pushing her leg between yours, running her tongue all over your neck, down to your collarbone, while her fingers dig into your hips, making them buck against her. You’re fighting and you’re pushing and you’re pulling and you can’t stop. All you fucking want is release. You kiss her again and again and again, dragging your hands roughly all over her, and she gasps and moans and whines at every single thing you do.

“Fuck, Camila,” she chokes out as your fingers tangle in her hair and you tug hard.

You force her dress up. You don’t want to play around. You thrust your hand down her panties and she moans loudly when you drag your fingers right over her, feeling just how fucking wet she is for you. You gasp as she moans in your ear and you can _feel_ her getting even wetter with every stroke of your fingers, getting even more turned on as you push further into her.

Your other hand is still tight in her hair and she falls against the door and then you push your fingers into her, feeling her clench around you right away.

“ _Fuck_ ,” she whimpers. “God – fucking hell.”

You’re so fucking angry and emotional and all you want to do is claim her, make her feel every goddamn thing that you are feeling and then ten times worse. You take her deep and long, pushing her thighs apart even more. She moans loudly and bites into your shoulder. You hiss harshly at the stinging sensation.

She’s already pulsing around you, dripping down your fingers—

“Did she fuck you like this, Laur?” you rasp out, running your tongue over her pulse point, tugging harder on her hair. “Did Cameron fuck you like this—”

Her eyes lock into yours and all you see is lust and pain and it _burns_ to have her look at you like this – but you can’t stop. Her chest heaves up and down and she doesn’t answer, just wraps her arms around your neck, pulling you into her, kissing you hotly, moaning against your mouth as you keep moving in and out of her and her body starts to tremble. Her legs start to shake and you know that she’s getting closer, but you’re _so_ not done with her yet, so you try to delay it, try to pull back a little, because she’s already edging—

But then Lauren husks out, “Fuck – I need – _harder_.”

And you can’t slow down anymore. You increase your pace, thrusting into her, faster and harder than you’ve ever done and she shatters apart all around you. She swears loudly and collapses against you, shaking all over – but as soon as she stops trembling, she shoves you away, making your back hit the desk. She pulls your dress up above your hips as she lifts you onto it, and then she’s kissing you again, running her hands over your breasts and down your sides, pushing your legs apart until she’s right between them, pressing into you.  

You’re still so high from making her come so hard that you can barely process what is happening, but then she yanks your panties down your legs, lowers herself in front of the desk, spreads your legs and licks her tongue all over you.

“ _Fuck – fuck_ ,” you cry out. “Lauren—”

“Jesus – you’re wet,” she says, right before going down on you again, tasting you, pulling on your legs as you start to grind yourself against her face harder with every passing moment.

You’re pulsing already. 

“Oh god…” Lauren husks out, trailing her tongue over you again, before you roughly pull her up and kiss her hard. Her fingers drift over you and you can’t take it anymore. You need more. Her mouth falls down to your neck and you shiver hard as she runs her tongue over your skin, sucking and biting. It tears right through your anger.

“Lauren – I need—” you tell her, breath hitching. “ _Lauren_ —”

She slowly pushes her fingers into you. It’s almost too much. You’ve missed this feeling so _fucking much_ that you lose yourself in the sudden intimacy of her slow touch – it rips you open in the most horrible way. You feel your throat tighten, because you don’t want this right now. You want it quick and hard and rough. You want her to feel just how much you burn for her and you can’t let her pull you into softness again – _not now_.

“ _Faster_ ,” you choke out.  

She doesn’t listen right away, but as you sink yourself deeper down on her touch, failing to keep quiet, failing to stifle your moans from ripping through the air, she starts increasing her pace. You’re shaking all over, clenching hard around her fingers. You bite down so hard on your bottom lip that you draw blood. Lauren’s head falls in your neck.

“Lauren – _fuck._ ”

You can feel yourself getting closer and she knows it too. She knows exactly how every intentional flick of her fingers is pushing to the edge, pushing you closer to her body as you—

Your head falls back and you moan her name when you come, dripping all over her fingers. She slowly slides out of you and you’re both shaking and breathing hard as she collapses into you. Your vision clears as all the pent up passion fades into reality again.

You feel raw and spent and hurt.   

Lauren’s eyes lock into yours and she moves forward, moves to put her hand on your cheek, moves to kiss you – but you put your hands on her shoulders and push her away from you. Your throat feels really fucking tight as you pull your dress down over your bare thighs again.

“Get out,” you say.

Something shifts over her face. “Camila—”

“Get the fuck out of my room,” you tell her again.

She stumbles back a little. Her hair is a mess, her eyes are glinting, her dress is falling half off her chest. For a moment, you’re startled because you can still see the faint cuts and bruises on her body from the accident and you can’t believe _this_ just happened, can’t believe how rough you’ve been with her even though she has a fucking concussion. But there’s no space in your chest for empathy right now, so your force it back down.

“I want you to leave, Lauren,” you say, your voice cracking on her name.

Her expression hardens. She pulls her dress in place, walks up to the door and then looks back out you, eyes locking into yours. She doesn’t look angry anymore, just hurt. There’s something else in her gaze too, something that slams you right back into the moment on the beach last night when she told you about her mother. Then, she says, “That’s the thing, isn’t it – people always leave.”

The door falls closed behind her the very second that you break down crying.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> Sorry...
> 
> *hides away in the corner*
> 
> (please don't kill me, I'll make it up, I promise!)
> 
> Love you all.   
> -Blake


	15. 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> I didn't want to leave you hanging too long after that dramatic scene, so here you go!  
> Love you all so much! Your comments on the last chapter pretty much killed me. :)  
> -Blake

XLII.

Your final days in LA pass in a blur.

You don’t know how you do it but somehow you manage to make it through your final exams. It’s like your mind’s been switched to some kind of automatic mode; you function just well enough to wake up on time, look at your study notes for a couple more hours, get to the venue and write down all the answers you can think of. You manage to smile, make light conversation with your classmates, pack your suitcase, wish everyone happy holidays and get yourself to the airport before Ally, Normani or Dinah talks to you long enough to push past your defenses. You’re pretty sure they all sense that something has happened, because they keep giving you these concerned looks and they keep bringing up Jessa’s party – but after two days you snap so harshly at them that they stop asking direct questions.

For the rest of your time, you ignore their calls and text messages and you take the bus to the airport all by yourself, not bothering to say goodbye. It’s Christmas Eve. You blast your music loud enough that you don’t have to listen to your own thoughts, you close your eyes and before you know it, the plane lands and you’re home again.

As soon as you catch sight of Sofi at the other end of the arrivals hall, you choke up. Your little sister sprints in your direction and jumps right on top of you, hugging you close. Then she says, “Why are you crying?”

It only makes things worse.

You let your parents hug you and you try to laugh through your tears, telling them all that you’re just exhausted because of exams and field hockey and that you’re just so happy to be home again, to see them again. You can’t stop rambling – filling every possible silence before anyone can start asking questions – and your dad is already nodding in understanding, squeezing your shoulder, but your mother’s eyes narrow for a moment as she looks you up and down. Then she pulls you into her once again, not saying anything as you cry against her shoulder a little. The mix of concern and confusion doesn’t leave her face all evening, though.

Dinner is a mess.

Your mind is buzzing with Sofi’s stories and trying to avoid your mother’s questions to the best of your abilities and forcing yourself to listen to your dad’s endless rants about _scouts_ and _games_ and _how many goals_ and _tough competition_ without snapping at him to fucking shut up about field hockey already.

You feel numb. You feel exhausted.

Sofi wants to sing karaoke with you, but after you’ve cleared away the dishes, you throw up all the food you had for dinner in the sink and your mother tells you to go to bed. You take a long shower and then fall into a heavy, dreamless sleep.  

When you wake up, it’s Christmas morning. 

You have never felt less festive in your entire life, but you don’t want to spoil the fun for the rest of your family, so you go downstairs in your pajamas together with Sofi as soon as she bursts through your door to pull you out of bed. You spend all morning with your family, exchanging presents and watching Christmas movies on TV. Your mother goes into the kitchen to bake your favorite kind of banana bread and your father has gotten you an official hockey jersey of the Dutch women’s field hockey team, which makes you smile a little bit because they’re your favorite and your dad knows that better than anyone else. You wrap your arms around his neck and try to ignore how tight your stomach feels because thinking about field hockey makes you think about other things.

As the day goes on, you start to feel a little bit better. Things lighten up a little. You’re still on the edge of crying every single time your mother looks at you with that worried look on her face, but in the afternoon the rest of your family comes over and that provides enough distraction. You lose yourself in being home again – the smells, the people, the laughter, the Spanish, the music. It’s so good to feel a little loved by everyone around you, so good for once to have no one screwing you over again and again. 

The day afterwards, you go to the beach.

You spend hours and hours swimming and walking along the shoreline and playing in the waves with your little sister and your ribcage opens up even further. You can’t help but feel like the wind and the salt and the sand are the only elements that can completely clear your mind of any thought that you don’t want to have. You can’t help but fall in love with the ocean a little bit more.

Late at night, Sofi climbs into bed with you.

“What’s college like?” she whispers and you can’t help but smile at the excitement in her voice.

“It’s really fun,” you answer truthfully.

“Yeah?” she asks.

You nod. “Yes – most of the time at least.”

She’s silent for a little while. Then, she breathes out into the darkness, “Do you want to go back already?”

There’s a sudden nervous edge to her voice that makes you shift a little in your bed, pulling her closer. “No, Sof, why would you think that?”

She shrugs a little against you. “It seems like you’re really sad. I thought that maybe you don’t want to be here with us. Maybe college is more fun than being here in Miami.”

Your throat tightens as tears start to burn behind your eyes.

“Hey,” you say, pulling her closer into you. “That’s not the case, Sof. I love being here. I missed you so much, you know that right? I always miss you when I’m away.”

“I missed you too,” she whispers in your ear. “I wish I was at college with you.”

For a moment you’re both silent, before Sofi says, “Then why are you so sad all the time?”

Your exhale is shaky and drawn out. You try not to cry, try to blink your tears away, because the only thing you want for your nine year old sister is for her to be happy and not worry about you for a single moment. But you know that she’s been sensing that something’s off for days already and you don’t like lying to her at all. You struggle a little with finding the words, though.

“College has not been that much fun during the last few weeks,” you say slowly, trying to figure out what else to tell her. You take a deep breath, before adding, “I’ve been kind of… arguing with someone.”

You can feel Sofi frown with her face in your shoulder. “Arguing? About what?”

Your voice is a little shaky. “About – field hockey. A little bit at least. But mostly about…” Your breath hitches as you try to make sense of your thoughts. “About – the kind of people that we both are and… about how to – how to like each other, I guess.”

“I don’t understand,” Sofi says.

You breathe out, “Neither do I.”

Sofi shifts again next to you, trying to process your words. Then, she says, “Is it a boy? Is it a love thing?”

Your breath hitches in the back of your throat, because your sister asks it so genuinely that you can’t even think about the fact that she’s only nine years old and you probably shouldn’t talk about these sort of things with her.

You shake your head. “No, it’s not a boy.”

You don’t bother to answer the second part of her question.

Sofi shifts next to you. “Are you friends?” 

You bite your lip. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. Maybe. Sometimes. Why?”

Sofi’s eyes glint in the darkness. “If you’re friends, it’s easy. If you’re friends, you should just both say you’re sorry and then shake each other’s hands or give each other a hug and then you don’t have to be sad anymore. You can’t stay angry with your friends forever.”  

You swallow hard as slow hot tears start falling down from the corners of your eyes onto your pillow. Your heart feels really full and heavy as you hug your sister a little closer. “When did you get so smart, huh?”

Sofi grins against your shoulder at the compliment. Then she says, “What’s her name?”

“Lauren,” you breathe out, not even bothering to make something up. “Her name is Lauren.”

“Maybe you can talk to her,” Sofi says, before looking up at you again. “Then you don’t have to be so sad anymore.”

You don’t say anything for a while. Then, you whisper, “I wish I could, but it’s actually a little more complicated than that.”

Sofi folds her arm over your stomach and snuggles into you a little closer. “Why?”

You’re silent for a very long time. Your mind is spinning and your heart is racing and there are tears streaming down your cheeks that you keep trying to push back – but you can’t ignore them, can’t ignore the way you feel. You can’t pretend that nothing is going on when all of your emotions are rushing through your body – when you are feeling absolutely _everything_ all at once. Even your little sister can see right through it.

“Sof?” you whisper, feeling very nervous all of a sudden.

“Yes,” she says.

Your palms get sweaty and you clench them tightly in the sheets, taking a deep breath, before you whisper out into the darkness of your childhood bedroom, “Maybe it _is_ a love thing…”

It’s the most vulnerable thing you’ve said in a really long time – something you’ve been pushing down for weeks. You shut your eyes tightly, waiting for your sister’s response. Sofi doesn’t move for a little while, but then she sits right up and looks at you, pressing her hands into your stomach softly, forcing you to open your eyes again.

“Really?” she says, smile on her face. “It’s a love thing? With a _girl_?”

You’re still a little paralyzed but you manage to nod and then your sister’s face lights up completely.

“ _Really_?” she says again. “I didn’t even know that you – that a girl – does that really happen? Can you really fall in love with a girl if you’re a girl?”

You nod again.

“Of course,” you breathe out. “Sof, you can fall in love with anyone. It doesn’t matter if you like boys or girls.”

Your sister’s face erupts in pure happiness at the thought. She grabs your hand and interlaces her small fingers with yours, before saying, eyes wide in excitement, “Are you in love with Lauren?”

Your stomach flips.

“No—” you answer right away.

Sofi’s face crumples in confusion. “But you just said that it’s a love—”

“Maybe,” you breathe out, cutting her off slightly. “Maybe a little bit. I don’t know. I don’t want to be – it’s too… I just don’t know, ok?”

For a moment Sofi still pouts, but then she softly nods. “Ok.” She lies down next to you again. “I understand. You first need to stop arguing and then maybe you can be in love together.”

Your stomach hurts at your sister’s words. You pull her a little closer into you again. “Let’s just go to sleep, yeah? It’s getting really late.” 

Your sister rolls over and her breathing quickly slows down, but  right before she falls asleep she still mumbles into the night, “I just don’t want you to be sad anymore…”

You bury your face against her head as you pull her close. “I love you, Sof.”

All you think when you press your eyes shut to stop the tears from coming is _please, please, please don’t ever grow up._

XLIII.

The next day, you get into a fight with your father about field hockey.

You don’t know how, but apparently he only just found out that you lost that game the day the scouts came to watch and he’s completely furious about it. You argue for a good half hour, your voices getting increasingly louder until at some point your father snaps _this is all you’ve ever wanted, Camila, how can you let yourself screw this up_ and all you can yell back is _this is all_ you _have ever wanted, I just want you to leave me the fuck alone._  

Neither of you apologizes.

You spent the rest of the days before New Year’s being as far away from your father as possible, catching up with old friends from high school, taking Sofi to the movies, going to the beach – doing anything as long as you don’t have to be at home.

You force yourself to enjoy it all. You force yourself to stop staring at Lauren’s name in your contact list when you lie in bed late at night, debating whether or not to call her. You force yourself to stop thinking about the fact that you basically admitted to your nine year old sister that you’re maybe in love with her.

On the 30th of December, you are up in your room after dinner, trying to avoid another confrontation with your parents. You’re trying to learn a couple of new songs on your guitar while Sofi is dancing around you and singing along completely out of tune – and then your mother walks in.

She’s got a concerned look on her face and she’s holding your phone in her left hand.

“Mija,” she says. “Your phone kept ringing downstairs, but you were here, so I eventually picked it up and – there’s a girl on the line for you—”

Your stomach drops before your mother even finishes her sentence.

“—I think she’s called Lauren. She sounds a little—”

You don’t catch the end of your mother’s phrase. All you see is Sofi’s eyes going wide, before you jump up, pull your phone out of your mother’s hand and rush into the bathroom, slamming the door closed behind you.

Your hands are shaking when you bring your phone up to your ear. “Hello?”

She’s crying. You can tell right away. It sends an ice cold shiver straight through your chest.

“Camz—” she says, gasping, choking on her words. “I-I’m – my mother – I don’t know what to—” Her voice breaks and you can hear her take another shaky breath. It feels like your entire ribcages bursts apart, when she says, “Camz – I’m in Miami.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> Coming up: MIAMI.  
> Let me know what you think :)  
> -Blake


	16. 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> Sorry about the OTHER cliffhanger. Haha! Hopefully, this update will make up for it. :)   
> Love you all. Enjoy the chapter!  
> -Blake

XLIV.

You don’t care about anything that happened between you and Lauren before.

You don’t care about the screaming and the fighting and all the terrible things you’ve both said to each other, whether you really meant them or not. You don’t care about Jessa’s party or about what happened in your bedroom after. You don’t care that Lauren’s got such a strong hold on your heart that she could shatter it into a million pieces in less than a second if she wanted to. You don’t care that maybe you’re love with her, despite everything that happened, that maybe you’re so _goddamn_ in love with her that you barely even recognize it for what it is because you’ve never felt this way in your entire life. You don’t care about how scary that is.

It all fades to the background.

All you do, when you catch sight of her pacing the length of the waiting room of the hospital, is run up to her and wrap your arms around her neck.

She stumbles into your embrace, collapsing, breaking, falling apart. You have never seen her cry like this. She pushes her face harshly in the gap between your shoulder and your neck and you stroke your hands through her hair, stroke your fingers over her cheek as you pull her closer.

“Lauren…”

You press your lips against her jaw, kissing her tears away, wanting only for her to feel all right again – wanting to kiss every bad thing that has ever happened to her _away_ , so you don’t ever have to see her like this again.

“Hey,” you breathe out. “Lauren, it’s ok. I’m here. It’s ok. Everything is going to be ok.”     

She keeps holding onto you, pushing her face hard against your shoulder.

“Baby…” you whisper and she breaks a little harder at the sound of the word, so you tell her again, because she needs to know. She needs to feel that you are there, that she _is_ yours even if she’s _not,_ even if it’s crazy and complicated and scary, even if neither of you understands it completely. “Baby, I’m here—”

She pulls away and then chokes out, “She overdosed. She overdosed on her meds and she’s _not_ – it’s not ok – she was all by herself and I don’t – I took the first flight, but I don’t know – _Fuck_ , what do I _fucking_ do—”

She stumbles, close to fainting, and you pull her down on one of the benches, before leaning over and pulling her face close to yours again.

“You’re here,” you tell her. “You’re here and I’m here and we’re going to figure it out together, ok? I’m not leaving you.”

It seems like the sentence rips right through her. She looks up at you and her green eyes are glazy with tears as she chokes out, “I’m so sorry.”

You’re completely taken aback by the sudden shift.

“W-what—” you stammer.

“I fucked everything up,” Lauren stammers. “I fucked everything up with my mother and with _you_ and I just – I can’t ever get anything right and it’s all my fault and I—”

She’s shaking.

“Don’t say that,” you whisper. “Lauren, you’re not – it’s not – it doesn’t work like that, Laur.”

She moves away from you a little, sudden panic on her face. “You shouldn’t – you shouldn’t be here. I don’t want you to help me – not after everything I’ve done to you and—”

“Lauren—”

It’s like your voice isn’t yours. You’ve never sounded so stressed and anxious in your entire life – it’s like all the emotions you’ve felt in the past few weeks are all crashing on top of you at once.

“I don’t deserve you,” Lauren says then, her voice cracking up as she pushes herself away from you, standing up. “I don’t deserve you at all – you should – _you should go_. You should leave.”

She stumbles backwards a little and it’s like something snaps – something that you’ve been holding back for far too long already.

“ _No,_ ” you lash out, anger pushing its way up through your veins abruptly. “ _Fuck that_. You’re not doing that to me again, Lauren. Not now.” Your voice is shrill. “I’m not going anywhere, you got that?”

She moves back, but you grab her wrists harshly, your knuckles whitening as you tighten your grip. “I’m _not_ going anywhere. How many fucking times do I have to tell you?”

She struggles against you, trying to pull her hands free, but you don’t let her go.

“Stop fighting me off,” you snap, locking your eyes into hers. “Stop pushing me out.”

It’s like all the strength in her body fades away at once. Her face crumbles up in pain, tears streaming down her face as she says, “People always leave – I don’t understand why you—”

“I’m not going to leave you alone right now,” you choke out, your voice almost breaking at the green of her eyes and the closeness of her face. “Lauren – when are you going to understand that I’m – that I’m fucking in lo—”

You almost tell her, right there and then. The word almost tumbles off your lips, but right before it happens, a door opens behind you and a nurse appears in the doorway.

“Excuse me,” she says. “Sorry to interrupt – Miss Jauregui?”

Both you and Lauren spin around at the same time. The sensation is all too familiar – the white hospital walls all around you, the stinging pain in your chest, all the uncertainty.

“Your mother’s situation is not critical anymore,” the nurse says and Lauren’s harsh exhale of relief next to you makes your eyes shut close for a second.

“We’re going to have to keep her overnight,” the woman continues, “and I’m afraid you can only see her tomorrow morning because the effects of her overdose have not worn off yet and we usually don’t advice family members to visit before they do. But we’d like to see you tomorrow when your mother has hopefully gained full consciousness again.”

“Is she going to be all right?” Lauren chokes out.

The nurse purses her lips. “Physically she is going to be all right. However, there are some things we’d like to discuss with you concerning your mother’s mental health, which is quite a complicating factor. We’ll go over those with you tomorrow, together with Doctor Trenton. For now, I advise you to get some rest. Do you have a place to sleep tonight?”

Lauren’s face crumples a little, but you answer before she can say anything else. “Yes.”

“All right,” the nurse says. “Thank you for being patient with us. We will see you tomorrow.” She walks up to Lauren and puts her hand on her shoulder, squeezing it lightly. “Your mother is in good hands here,” she adds. “Please don’t worry too much. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

She disappears behind the sliding doors again.

Lauren’s gaze falls on you. For a moment you just stare at each other. Then, she steps forward and wraps her arms around your waist. She doesn’t say anything, just hugs you close. You don’t say anything either. There’s a million things going through your head all at once, but for the longest time you just stand like that, right in the middle of the waiting room, shaking because of the panic and the stress and the relief and the feelings—

—and maybe you don’t have to say anything.

XLV.

She calls Chris and Taylor when you’re in the car, and after that she tells you what happened, adding to the bits of pieces you already picked up on. It’s a fragmented story, stuttered out nervously, because she’s still so damn scared of letting you in and you _know_ how difficult it is for her – so you just try to listen.

“I haven’t talked to her for almost two months,” Lauren says. “At first we tried, of course we tried, but she’s just – you have no idea, Camz. Everything – our whole relationship – was toxic. So, we thought that maybe if we’d just let her be for a while, but now, _now_ —”

You let your hand fall down from the steering wheel to grab hers.

“The hospital called this morning. They’d finally been able to identify her and they searched her phone and then they called us and I just – I took the first flight I could take and then when I arrived they didn’t know anything, they couldn’t tell me anything only that she’d overdosed and that it was really bad.” Lauren’s voice wavers a little. “And I didn’t know what to do, so I called you—”

She squeezes your hand a little tighter. “Fuck, I’m so sorry to drag you into this.”

“Lauren,” you start, but she cuts you off.

“No, I am,” she says. “I’m so sorry about – everything.” Her voice cracks again. “I’ve been a mess and I don’t deserve any of your attention, not after what happened at Jessa’s, not after—”

It stings in your chest. You try to keep your eyes on the road.

“Laur,” you breathe out. “It’s ok. We don’t have to talk about that right now. This is about your mother, and I just—” Your hand lifts up to stroke the tears away from her cheeks. “—I just want you to be ok…”  

She grabs your hand and brings it to her lips, kissing your fingers softly.

“I want you to be ok too,” she says then. “I’m going to make everything ok – I promise.”

It’s the softest thing.

She kisses your fingers again and for a moment, neither of you says anything. All you feel is her lips on the skin of your fingers and you think _when it comes down to it, this is what you both do best_ – to cut right through all the anger and the pain and the walls that both of you draw up around yourselves, to find something else that counts.  

After a while, Lauren says, “My mother’s house is actually the other way.”

You shake your head. “I’m taking you home with me, to my parents.”

“Camila—”

You cut her off. “You’re not sleeping alone tonight.” 

You can feel her looking at you, but you keep your eyes on the road, and she doesn’t protest any further. When you finally slow down to a stop in front of your house, you can feel Lauren take a sharp inhale.

“Are you sure it’s ok?” she breathes out, nervously. “I really don’t mind going back to my own house—”

“Lauren,” you say, finally turning your head to look her in the eyes. “I’m not leaving you alone.”

She swallows hard. Then she says, “Your parents – do they, do they know about, uh, about – us?”

“Oh—” you stammer. “N-no. They don’t.”

She slowly nods. “I’m really sorry – about everything.”

You look at her, at the heavy, dark circles under her eyes and her smeared mascara and you can’t stop yourself – you quickly unbuckle your seatbelt and lean over to kiss her cheek. Your lips hover over her skin for a second too long. You both notice it. 

“Come on,” you say, trying to ignore the blush the rises up your cheeks. “Let’s go inside. You need to get some sleep.”

XLVI.

Thankfully, Sofi’s already gone to bed when you walk into the living room. You’re not sure you can handle your little sister meeting Lauren right now, especially not after what you admitted to her in your bedroom the other night. Your parents are sitting on the couch watching a show on TV. As soon as you enter, your mother stands up.

“Mija, are you ok?” she says, voice heavy with concern. “What’s going—”

Her eyes fall on Lauren, who shifts a little uncomfortably in the doorway. 

“This is Lauren,” you say quickly, grabbing Lauren’s hand and pulling her into the room. “We know each other from UCLA, but she’s from Miami too. Her mother is in the hospital, so she’s going to stay the night, ok?” 

Your mother’s face pales at the information. “Oh, God – _of course,_ ” she says and then she walks right up to Lauren wrapping both her arms around her without any hesitation. “I’m so sorry to hear that. You’re more than welcome to stay with us for as long as you need.”

Tears well up in Lauren’s eyes which she quickly tries to swallow back again. Her grip on your hand tightens a little.

“Thank you,” she says to your mother, breathlessly. “That’s very kind of you – thank you so much.”

Your father stands up and introduces himself as well. You can feel your mother’s eyes on you, clearly expecting to elaborate a little bit more on the situation, but you quickly mouth _not now_ and just nod in Lauren’s direction. She gets it right away and puts her comforting hand on Lauren’s shoulder instead. “Can I get you anything? Have you had dinner yet? Maybe a cup of tea? Or coffee?” 

“Um—” Lauren stammers. “I don’t want to be a bother—”

“No, no,” your mother exclaims. “Come into the kitchen.”

She leads the way into the kitchen where she makes Lauren sit down at the kitchen island while she starts cooking up food and boiling water for tea. You take the seat next to Lauren and grab her hand in yours again. She glances over at your mother with a slightly panicked look on her face, but you only squeeze her fingers more tightly. You don’t give a fuck about what your parents may think your relationship to Lauren is at the moment – all you want to do is be close to her.

Your mother tries to make light conversation, asking Lauren about mundane things like what her major is at UCLA and which high school she went to and about her life in Miami, occasionally commenting things like _that’s one of Camila’s favorite restaurants too_ or _such a small world._ You don’t even really listen to any of it, because you’re too busy staring at Lauren’s face to make sure that she’s ok.

After a while, she seems to lighten up a little bit – not much, but a little bit. Her face is still extremely pale and she does not seem entirely comfortable, but it appears that your mother’s stories and food are making her relax a little.

“Thank you so much for everything,” she tells your mother again after dinner. “For letting me stay and for the food – I really appreciate it.”

Your mother hugs her once more and you can’t help but feel your heart swell up a little at the sight. “Of course. You’re always welcome here. I really hope your mother will be ok soon.” She smiles a half-smile and then puts Lauren’s plate in the sink. “If you want to take a shower or a bath, please feel welcome to. Camila will show you around. The guest room should be ready as well. If there’s anything we can do…”

“Thank you,” Lauren says again.

She’s only brought a duffel bag with her as luggage, which you carry up the stairs for her.  

“So…” you say as you stand in front of your closed bedroom door, trying not to get caught on Lauren’s eyes. “Do you – do you want to sleep in the guest room or…”

You don’t finish your sentence.  

“Oh—” Lauren says. “I mean – your parents, they probably want me to – I guess they expect me to…”

Your cheeks heat up a little. “Yeah, but what do you want? Do you want to… or… or—”

Her eyes fall onto yours then and your breath hitches in the back of your throat. She softly bites down on her lip as a slight blush rises up to her cheekbones.

“I mean, maybe—” she stammers. “If you don’t mind, I…”

_God_ – you both really need to start finishing your sentences.

“Do you want to sleep with me?” you blurt out, as soon as the thought crosses your mind. Then your eyes go wide. “I mean – fuck. I don’t mean it like _that._ Just – do you want to sleep in my bed? In my room, I mean.”

The corner of Lauren’s mouth curls up in a slight smile at your sudden embarrassment.

“Yes,” she breathes out then. “Of course I want to sleep with you. In your bed, I mean. In your room.”

“Ok,” you say quickly.

“Right,” Lauren adds.

“Right…”

You spin around and push the door to your bedroom open. “Well, this is it – sorry, it’s a little messy.”

She walks in and you stay in the doorway, watching her eyes go over the books and the pictures and the field hockey trophies on your shelves. You feel a little self-consciously all of a sudden. Lauren softly smiles, tracing her fingers over the edge of your desk as she takes it all in. Her eyes fall onto the open guitar case in the corner.

“You play the guitar?”

You nod. “Sometimes.”

She smiles at you and you try to ignore the small flutter in the center of your stomach.

“Do you want to take a shower?” you ask.

She nods. “Yes, thanks, a shower sounds great.” Then something shifts over her face as she blushes a little.

“What?” you ask.

Her eyes lock into yours. Her voice trembles a little when she takes a deep breath and then breathes out, “Do you – do you maybe want to come with?”

XLVII.

It is one of the most intense things you’ve ever done.

Your fingers are shaking slightly as you pull the hem of your shirt over your head, not taking your eyes off Lauren’s for even one moment. She unbuttons her jeans, before hooking her fingers under the waistband and slowly pulling them down her legs. You do the same, feeling your skin heat up as your fingers drag over it. You try your very best to not let your gaze catch on her smooth skin. Lauren’s chest is slowly heaving up and down and she blushes a little when she pulls her shirt off. You’re both just standing in your underwear. The air between you is taut and hot – and it’s not because the shower is already running. With a shaky breath you unclasp your bra just as Lauren slips out of her panties. Your throat gets dry at the sight of her. With one final push of confidence, you force yourself to let your own underwear fall down to your ankles while Lauren curls her fingers around the clasp of her bra and lets the straps fall down her shoulders – and then you’re both completely naked.

You’ve seen her so many times before, but never like this.

Her expression shifts a little as your gaze trails over her. “Camz, are you – are you ok?”

You nod, unable to feel anything else but the shivers that are running own your back as you trace your eyes over the faint bruises and cuts that she still has all over her.

Lauren’s gaze darkens a little as realizes what you’re staring at. “Sorry – I know I don’t look very—”

“ _Lauren_ ,” you say, cutting her off before she can finish her sentence. Your voice is raspy and hoarse, when you take a step closer to her. “You are so fucking beautiful.”

Her cheeks redden in less than a heartbeat. She bites her lip hard, before she breathes out, a little nervous, a little insecure. “You really think so?”

Your eyes find hers. It feels like all your feelings are going to explode right out of your chest as you reply, breathlessly, “Yes.”

She pulls on your wrist.

You feel everything at once – the steam of the shower clouding your mind, the softness of Lauren’s wet body as she presses against you, shy at first, then a little bolder. She kisses your shoulders, lets her hands fall down to your hips. There are drops of water all over her skin and you want nothing else but to lick them right off of her. You don’t dare to, though. Not really. Instead, you bring your fingers up to her cheek and kiss her jaw softly. Her breath hitches against your ear. You don’t dare to kiss her for real – too scared you’ll break the moment, too scared you’ll go too fast. This is more than enough right now. In fact, it is so much more than anything that has ever happened between you.

“Come here,” Lauren whispers then and she starts massaging shampoo in both your hair and her own. Your eyes flutter closed at the sensation. She softly washes it out again, taking turns with you under the faucet, all the time letting her hands trace down your back and over your stomach, bringing her lips to your neck as she softly kisses your heated skin.

Then, she pulls on your hips, turning you around, before opening your palm and squeezing shower gel into it. Her eyes lock into yours – the green heavy and intense. You feel like all the oxygen gets knocked right out of your lungs when she softly brings your hand down to her chest, letting you rub the foam all over her, while she keeps your hand covered with her own.

It’s not exactly sexual, but it _is._

It is a million different things at the same time. It’s heavy and tense but good and comfortable too – it’s important and lovely and scary and intense and you can’t get enough. She moans a little when you stroke over her nipples, stroke between her legs, never really touching her anywhere unless she wants you to. You can’t take your eyes off hers for entire minutes on end.

Then, she does the same thing to you and you burn with every movement of her hands over your skin. Your breathing is slowly getting uneven.

“Laur,” you whisper. “Is this ok for you? Is this – ok?”

She nods and pulls you into her then. Her body is like wildfire against yours.

“You’re fucking amazing,” she breathes in your ear. “You’re – Camila, you’re so… God – you make my head spin.”

Her words pulse right through you. You don’t think anyone has ever said anything like that to you, not like _that_ anyway – not in the way that every single syllable burns into your skin.

Then, her throat bobs unexpectedly against your shoulder and you realize with a shock that she’s crying.

“Hey,” you say, pulling back a little. “Lauren, are you ok?”

She bites her lip hard, before nodding. “Yeah… it’s just _a lot._ My mother and… you, it’s all just very intense.”

You nod. “I know, baby.”

Her voice trembles, when she adds “I don’t – I don’t want to push you away again.”

You interlace your fingers with hers, slowly leaning into her, so she doesn’t see your face when you say what you’re about to say.

“Laur,” you mumble, “I’m not going anywhere. I’m – I – I have never felt anything quite like this – ever.”

Her head falls into your shoulder again and then she says, “Me neither.”

It’s not exactly a love confession, but it’s definitely something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> Slowly but steady we're getting somewhere, eh? :)  
> Let me know your thoughts! I always LOVE reading your comments!  
> Hope you all have a lovely day!
> 
> -Blake


	17. 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: 
> 
> Hey lovely people, 
> 
> I'll admit, this was a pretty intense chapter to write. I hope I did it justice. Mental health is such an important subject to talk and write about. Most of the things mentioned here are either based on personal experience or the experiences of people I know. Please know that if you are struggling with something in your own life, there are so many resources out there that recognize the importance of your well-being, both online and in real life. If you want to talk to me about something – anything – let me know in the comments or e-mail me at thisoldlove@gmail.com. I’m here. Let’s be friends. :) For now, enjoy the chapter! 
> 
> -Blake

XLVIII.

When you wake up, Lauren is looking at you.

She’s tracing her fingers softly over the skin of your stomach and her gaze is still a little sleepy, but there’s something else in her eyes, too, something that immediately sharpens your senses.

“Hey,” you say, shifting a little. “How are you feeling?”

Lauren bites her lip, looking away from you when she mumbles, “I’m really scared about going to the hospital.”

You slowly nod and stay quiet, not really knowing what to say to that. Instead, you interlace your fingers through hers and pull her a little closer into you. For a moment you just lie next to each other, not saying anything.

Then you breathe out, “Ok – let’s get up. I’ll make you breakfast.”

You dress silently. Neither your parents nor your sister are awake yet, so you let Lauren sit in the kitchen, while you quickly prepare some breakfast for the both of you.

On the way to the hospital, you notice that Lauren is getting tenser with every passing minute. She keeps clenching and unclenching her hands and you can feel her shutting herself off for you again, as she stares out of the window, falling into the depths of her own thoughts. You don’t try to push through it, though. Not today. Today you just need to be there for her in any way you can.

Your chest feels a little tight when you walk into the hospital entrance area. Lauren states her mother’s name at the desk and then you’re both sent up to the seventh floor. As soon as you step out of the elevator, the same nurse that talked to Lauren yesterday approaches you.

“Miss Jauregui,” she says. “Good morning, thank you for coming. Will you follow me please? Doctor Trenton would like to talk to you about your mother’s situation for a moment.”

You halt a little, before turning to Lauren. “Are you – Laur, do you want me to…”

She nods, before you can even finish your question. “Yes, please.”

You both follow the nurse into a small office. Behind the desk is another woman. She shakes both your hands, introducing herself, before gesturing at you to take a seat in front of her.

“First of all,” she says, turning to Lauren. “I’d like to inform you that your mother is doing very well. She’s conscious and we’ve been able to move her into a regular hospital room, since her situation is no longer critical. She’s definitely doing a lot better than yesterday.”

Lauren exhales heavily in relief.

“However,” Doctor Trenton continues, the expression on her face shifting. “We’d like to discuss something with you.”

You can feel Lauren tense beside you and you quickly grab her hand in yours. She lets you, but doesn’t take her eyes off the doctor when she says, “I already know what you’re going to say.”

Doctor Trenton raises her eyebrows. “You do?”

Lauren nods. “She needs to be admitted into a mental health institution.”

The woman seems a little taken aback. “Well,” she says, “Yes, actually. We’d like to discuss those possibilities with you. The hospital offers excellent placements for people like your mother, people with bipolar—”

“It’s not going to work,” Lauren interrupts, a little roughly. “I’m sorry. We’ve tried that many times before already, but it never works. She doesn’t want to. She doesn’t take it seriously enough.”

Doctor Trenton nods. “I understand. It’s a difficult situation.” She bites her lip and then folds her hands into each other. “Perhaps you can try to talk about this to your mother, though.”

Lauren’s face pales.

“At this point,” Doctor Trenton continues, “she’s both posing a danger herself as well as to others. Yesterday’s incident has shown us that much. This is something we have to take very seriously. Please know that we are here to help you out as much as we can.”

Lauren nods. “I understand.”

“All right,” Doctor Trenton says. “Well, we don’t have to go into the details right now. I’m sure you would like to visit your mother first, so perhaps we can have another conversation after the visitation hours are over? You can find me here in this office. I’ll be around all day”

Lauren nods. “Thank you.”

The nurse walks you out into the hallway again. “Your mother is located in room 722,” she says, pointing you towards the specific area. “It’s right around the corner.”

At that, Lauren suddenly halts, turning to you.

“Camz – I, um,” she says. “Maybe I should do this alone.”

You’re a little taken aback, but you nod right away. “Of course. Yeah, sure, I’ll just wait in the waiting room.”

She smiles a little apologetically at you. “It’s not – I love that you’re here, really. It’s not that. It’s just that – I don’t know what she’s going to be like and it’s been really long since I last talked to her, so I don’t want, I don’t think—”

You grab her hands. “It’s ok. Laur, of course, I understand. I’ll be right here if you need me, ok?”

She puts her fingers on your cheek, quickly kissing you right above your jaw. “Thank you.”

Then she disappears out of sight. 

XLIX.

She’s gone for almost an hour, and then all of a sudden, she’s there again, rushing past you like a whirlwind, heading straight for the elevator.

You’re so startled that it takes you a moment to catch up. As soon as you catch sight of her face, though, ice old panic floods through your chest.

“Lauren,” you choke out, jumping up from your chair and running after her, barely reaching the elevator in time.

She’s crying. She’s gasping, shoving you roughly off of her as soon as you try to wrap your arms around her.

“ _Don’t—_ ” she says.

You back up a little. The elevator shoots down and then Lauren bursts through the entrance sliding doors. She takes off running and you’ve got no option but to follow her, trying to keep up with her speed. She runs till the far end of the parking lot, before you finally manage to catch her elbow. She spins around and falls abruptly into you, making you stumble at the impact.

You’re both panting.

“Hey,” you say, grabbing her shoulders. This time she doesn’t push you off. “Laur, what happened?”   

She doesn’t say anything. She just sinks to her knees, onto the pavement, with tears streaming down her face and her chest heaving up and down with painful panting. She doesn’t say anything and you don’t ask anything either. After what feels like ten minutes, at least, she finally calms down a little. Her breathing slows and her tears stop flowing. All that stays is the painful scowl on her face and the way she keeps avoiding your eyes.

“Lauren,” you say again. “How can I help? What can I do?”

“I don’t know,” she chokes out. “I don’t know what to do at all – I don’t even know where to begin.”

“Baby…”

Her eyes lock into yours. “It didn’t work. We only argued. I tried to talk to her about getting professional help, but she’s only ever listened to my dad about those things – but my dad, he’s not… he’s…” She gasps on the emotion. “He left. He left the day after my fifteenth birthday and he’s never come back – he just _left_ – because that is what people do, they leave. He left my mom behind and I left my mom behind and now – now she’s never going to be ok again – and it’s my dad’s fault for leaving. It’s _my_ fault for leaving.”

Your mind is spinning. It’s a lot to process at once. Lauren is shaking all over.

“It doesn’t help,” she says then, voice cracking. “I can tell her so many times, over and over, that I don’t want her to die – and it never helps. It doesn’t make the slightest difference. She doesn’t listen.”

Your throat closes off. For a moment you can’t do anything but stare at her as you feel the hot tears start to burn behind your eyes. Your vision blurs.

Lauren looks up at you. “You know, a week before I left for UCLA, she took me to the theatre. We were going to see a show together, because she was having a really good week, and I felt so happy about it. But that day everything got fucked up again. We were going to be late and there were too many red traffic lights and my mother just lost it. She kept saying _I’m a bad mother I’m a bad mother I’m a bad mother_ over and over again and she cried and we were already late for the show, so she dropped me off right in front of the theatre to collect the tickets already while she was going to find a parking spot. So I got out and she just said it again – _I’m a bad mother_. And I wanted to scream at her _no you’re not_ but I couldn’t because I was already out of the car. So I just got the tickets and I thought, I’ll tell her as soon as she arrives. I’ll tell her right before the show starts and then everything will be all right again. But she didn’t show up – she just drove straight home again, not bothering to come to the show – and so – and so I never ended up telling her, and then the week afterwards, I left. We left.”

Your entire chest aches.

“Lauren…” you whisper.

“I don’t know what to do, anymore,” she chokes out. “I don’t know how to convince her to take care of herself.”

She falls against you.

You’re silent for a really long time. You don’t know what to say. You don’t know Lauren’s mother at all and you’re only just starting to get to know Lauren, like _really_ get to know Lauren. But there’s one thing on your mind.

“You’ve got to go back inside, baby,” you breathe out, through your tears, when you’ve finally pushed yourself enough to voice the thought. “I know it’s scary, but you can’t do anything for your mother if you stay right here.”

You pull her a little closer against you, before you mumble against her skin. “You’ve got to do the opposite of leaving. You’ve got to go right back inside, right to where it hurts—” Your whole chest aches as you add, “—even though it’s the scariest thing in the world.”   

She’s silent. Then she nods, staring up at you, so vulnerable and cracked open when she breathes out, “Will you please come with me?”

Clara Jauregui is sleeping when you enter the hospital room. For a moment you’re startled by the resemblance between Lauren and her mother. There’s a heavy, nervous feeling in the pit of your stomach, but you force yourself to push it down. This is not about you or about how you feel in any way.

Lauren walks to the other side of the bed. She takes a deep breath.

Then, she says, “Mamá, I’m here again.”

Lauren’s mother stirs, before opening her eyes again. Her gaze falls on her daughter.

“Hey…” she says. “You’re back.” Then her gaze catches on you. She softly smiles and extends her hand. “Is this the girl you were talking about?”

Lauren blushes hard. “Yes.”

You quickly walk up to the bed, trying to ignore the wave of tension that shoots through your body. “I’m Camila. It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Jauregui.”

“Please call me Clara,” Lauren’s mother says. “Sorry to meet you here in this mess.”

You shrug, not really knowing what to say to that.

Lauren bites down on her lip hard, before taking the seat next to her mother’s bed. Her voice is shaky when she says, “I’m sorry I screamed at you earlier. I’m sorry I ran out.”

Clara reaches out her hand for Lauren to grab it. “Don’t be, mija.”

Lauren shrugs and gazes down. “I’m going to say a couple of things to you,” she says then, voice a little rough. “You might get mad again. I know you don’t like talking about this. I don’t like it either.” Her gaze hardens. “I know that we’re both better at pretending that nothing is going on, but for once, please hear me out, ok?”

Clara’s expression darkens a little, but she doesn’t say anything.

Lauren takes another shaky breath, before choking out, “I love you.”

At that, Clara’s eyes widen. Her lips part, but Lauren cuts in before she can respond.

“Remember when you wanted to plant a vegetable garden in the backyard?” Lauren says. “It’s a long time ago, I think I was twelve. You came home and just said ‘we’re going to plant a vegetable garden’. And then you gathered all of us and you taught us how to plant tomatoes. Remember?”

Clara slowly nods.

“They died, those tomatoes,” Lauren says, her voice trembling. “And Taylor cried a little bit about it, I think. But you just went ahead and planted them again. And then they died again – and you told us that if you we wanted them to live we just had to take care of them a little better, we just had to love them a little harder. And so we planted them again and again and eventually they grew and you cut them all up and made us tomato soup for dinner.”

Your throat feels so tight.

“Mija,” Clara says. “What are you trying to say?”

There’s a beat of silence, before Lauren says, “I want you to get yourself admitted to a mental health institution. Like we talked about before. A place where they can help you – where they can help you better than you can help yourself, better than I can.”

Clara’s face hardens and her voice turns harsh in less than a second, as she exclaims, “I’m not going there. I don’t need to—”

“I love you,” Lauren says again. “I love you like you loved those tomatoes, really hard, and over and over again, even when it doesn’t work out—” Tears are streaming down her face as she says it and your entire body tenses. “—and yesterday, when the hospital called me – I just… - I – mama, you can—” She stammers through her sentences. “You can push me away for as long as you like, but I love you and I don’t want you to die. I want you to be persistent with your life – like with the tomatoes.”

“I’m not—” Clara says. “Maybe it’s better if I’m not – for all of you, I think it’s better if I’m—”

At that, Lauren’s eyes flash and she lashes out, “Don’t you fucking say that. Don’t you dare fucking say that out loud.”

Clara falls silent. Her chest is heaving up and down, her jaw tight. Then she says, “You are too much like your father, mija.”

“Yeah,” Lauren chokes out. “Except I’m not going anywhere.”

Something flashes across Clara’s face.

“I’m not going anywhere until you start to take care of yourself,” Lauren bites out. “You got that? I’m not leaving this hospital room until you’ve signed the goddamn damn papers for admission. I’m not leaving until we have a fucking vegetable garden, mamá.”

You dig your fingernails into the palm of your hand, swallowing hard, trying to blink through the burning feeling behind your eyes.

Then, Clara says, “Mija, come here.”

In less than a moment, something in the room softens as Lauren falls against her mother’s shoulder.

There are tears streaming down Clara’s face, as she mumbles, “A-all right – all right. I’ll – I’ll think about it.”

LI.

The day is long.

It’s incredibly long, exhaustingly long.

There’s a lot of pushing and pulling between Lauren and Clara, a lot of going back and forth, a lot of harshness and misunderstanding. Eventually the doctors even have to get involved which makes the situation even tenser, but by the end of the afternoon, Clara’s signed the paperwork for an intake meeting at one of the mental health institutions affiliated with the hospital. The appointment is scheduled for the next day and Lauren agrees to be there, too, and after that the air softens a little.

You have no idea how to behave. You feel completely out of place and completely inept, like you’re not supposed to be here at all. But right as you’ve exited Clara’s hospital room for a moment to go to the bathroom, Lauren grabs your arm and pulls you into her for a moment.

“Thank you,” she breathes against your ear as she hugs you. “Camz, I – I couldn’t do any of this if you weren’t here with me, really.”

It lightens your chest a little. You brush your fingers over her cheek, feeling suddenly a little nervous to be so close to her. You softly smile through it, though, as you breathe out, “You are so lovely. You know that, right?”

It’s frighteningly honest – you even surprise yourself a little with saying it. But at the same time it’s such a constant thought in your head today that you feel like you just _have_ to tell her, even if it’s scary to say those kind of things out loud. Lauren’s cheeks heat up a little as she blushes at your words. She doesn’t take her eyes off yours, though.

“Tonight’s New Year’s Eve,” she says then.

You can feel your eyes go wide, because you completely forget.

“Do you have any plans?” she asks.

One of your friends from high school is throwing a house party, but you haven’t thought about it at all. With everything that’s been going on, New Year’s has actually been the very last thing on your mind.

“Um – I don’t know,” you say. “There are some parties that I could go to, but I haven’t – I don’t really think I’ll be up for… well – New Year’s not really my thing, anyway.”

Lauren nods in agreement. “I don’t really like New Year’s either. It’s completely overrated.”

For a moment you’re just looking at each other. Then, you blurt out, “Do you maybe – do you, um, want to spend it together with me – maybe?”

The corner of her mouth curls upwards. “Are you asking me out, Cabello?”

“ _No_ ,” you answer right away, feeling a little heated all of a sudden. “No – no, of course not. It’s just that… if you’re not doing anything and I’m not doing anything – I thought – I don’t know, maybe you want to come over again and – I did _not_ mean it like a… like a… Just – you know, hanging out. As friends.”       

“Friends?” she says, kinking her eyebrow up.

“Well,” you stammer. “I mean – well, you know what I mean.”

She smiles and runs the tip of her tongue over her bottom lip. Then, she leans into you a little closer, voice raspy when she says, “We’re not friends, baby.”

It makes your stomach flip harder than you’d expected. You stare at her a little breathlessly and you can’t help but realize over and over again how attracted you are to her – to every single side of her; when she’s sweet with you and when she flirts with you and even when she’s angry with you. She always makes your head spin, no matter what is going on.

“Right,” you mumble, eyes flicking down to her mouth briefly before you snap out of it again. “I’m going to the bathroom now.”

She smiles _that_ smile at you and you can’t help but laugh a little because of it, before rolling your eyes in fake annoyance. “You’re the worst, Lauren Jauregui.”

“Really?” she calls after you. “Because if my memory serves me correctly, you were calling me lovely only a minute ago.”

You grin, before yelling back, “Must be your concussion.”

Her laugh rings in your ears and you think it’s the absolute best sound you’ve heard in days.

LII. 

Sofi almost jumps on top of Lauren as soon as you walk into the living room. Your eyes go wide in shock at the sight – _fuck,_ this is not good.

“Are you Lauren?” Sofi says. “My sister already told me about you. I’m—”

“ _Sofia_ ,” you snap, making Sofi frown at you in confusion.

“What?” she says. “I’m just introducing myself. Mamá said that Lauren is staying with us, so I thought—”

“Can I see you in the kitchen for a moment?” you say, not bothering to wait for an answer, already grabbing Sofi’s arm and dragging her after you.

“ _What?_ ” she says, pulling her arm out of your grip, rubbing the spot with a pained scowl on her face. “I just wanted to be nice.” 

“Sorry,” you say quickly, leaning down to get to her level. “Sorry, Sof – I just… You can talk to Lauren in a bit, ok? I just need you to quickly promise me something.”

Sofi’s frown gets even deeper.

“You can’t tell Lauren… well, you can’t tell her that—” Your breath hitches in your throat as you lower your voice even more. “You can’t say anything about that… thing… we talked about in my bed the other night, ok?”

Your sister’s expression only shifts into more confusion. “What thing?”

“That thing where I said that maybe – that I’m maybe…”

Sofi’s eyes go wide. “The love thing—”

You slam your hand over her mouth in less than a second. She struggles against you.

“ _Yes,_ ” you snap. “That thing. You can’t talk about it, ok? Not a word. It’s a secret. A really big secret. You have to promise me, ok? You can’t say a single word about it. Not to mamá and papa and _definitely_ not to Lauren. You understand?”

Sofi still struggles against you, trying to pull away.

“You promise?” you say.

She grabs your hand with hers, trying to pull it off her mouth, pushing her fingernails harshly into the back of your hand.

“I’ll pay you twenty bucks,” you say, a little desperately. “Promise?”

At that, she falls quiet.

“Sofia,” you say. “Do you promise me you will not say anything?”

She slowly nods. You quickly remove your hand from her mouth again. “Sorry about that,” you say. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, but it’s really… It’s a big secret, ok? I trust you.”

Sofi only smiles. “Are you and Lauren friends again? You’re not fighting anymore?”

At that, you softly smile. “Not really, no.”

Sofi grins. “Do you think Lauren wants to sing karaoke with me?”

You ruffle your sister’s hair. “Go ask her yourself.”

She runs back into the living room. You take a deep breathe. That was a close call…

Lauren smiles at you a little curiously when you appear back into the room, but you pretend that you don’t notice it.

The rest of the night is so much nicer than you thought it would be. You and Lauren play games with Sofi, while your parents watch TV. When it comes to the New Year’s countdown, your mother gives each of you the traditional bowl with twelve grapes in it. Your heart speeds up when the last minute of the year kicks in and you don’t take your eyes off Lauren for even one moment.

“Almost!” Sofi yells. “Fifteen… fourteen… thirteen…”

You start putting the grapes in your mouth, one for each second, one for each of your twelve wishes for the new year, and you crack up as your mouth gets stuffed and you and Lauren can’t stop laughing at each other’s expressions – and then the new year has begun.

You wipe the tears from laughing out of your eyes, while you swallow the grapes down. Your mother gets up and hugs you and Sofi close at the same time, kissing both your faces as she wishes you a happy new year. Then, she walks over to Lauren to hug her as well while you and Sofi both embrace your dad. Outside fireworks are already starting to light up the sky. Your dad embraces Lauren too, breaking away when Sofi jumps on top of her.

“Happy new year, happy new year!” she yells.

You move closer and then Lauren’s eyes lock into yours and you wrap your arms around her neck, pulling her into you.

“Happy new year, Laur,” you whisper, close to her ear, very quickly pressing a kiss to her cheek, hoping your parents and your little sister don’t notice.

After that, you go outside to watch the fireworks for a while. Sofi grabs both yours and Lauren’s hand as she pulls you along to the back of your yard, where she starts to make her way up the ladder to the treehouse that your dad built for you when you were a child.

It’s provides the perfect view to look up at the sky. You know you’re supposed to watch the fireworks explode into bright reds, yellows and greens above you, but instead, you can’t stop staring at Lauren for entire minutes on end, blushing whenever her eyes meet yours over your sister’s head.

After about half an hour, your mother calls Sofi back inside to go to bed. You quickly give her a hug and a kiss. “Good night, Sof,” you whisper. “Sleep well.”

Sofi moves in to hug Lauren as well and you can’t help but feel your heart flutter at the sight. When she’s already made her way almost completely down the ladder of the tree house, your sister yells up again.

“Lauren?” she says.

“Yeah?” Lauren replies.

Sofi’s silent for a beat, but then she blurts out, “I really like you –and – and – I’m not supposed to say this – but Camila does too.”

You can feel yourself blush scarlet in less than a second.

“ _Sofia_ ,” you say. “Go to bed.”

Lauren just grins and then yells down the ladder, “I really like you too, Sofi. Sleep well.”

You can hear Sofi run back inside the house, slamming the door behind her, and then Lauren turns to you.

“So…” she says, teasing smile on her lips. 

You try not to look at her. “So?”

Lauren grins. “You really like me, huh?”

At that, you do turn to look at her, shrugging your shoulders, trying very hard not to get caught on the green of her eyes. “My little sister is nine,” you mumble. “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

Lauren’s smile widens a little. “Too bad,” she says, “Because I kind of like you too.”

Your breath hitches in the back of your throat. Lauren’s smile curls even wider, before she softly pulls her bottom lip back with her teeth, eyes flicking down to your own mouth very obviously.

“So,” she says. “New Year’s.”

You feel completely flustered. “Yeah,” you breathe out. “New Year’s.”

Her voice is raspy when she says, “What is that thing you’re supposed to do again when it’s New Year’s?”

Your mind is spinning. She’s sitting really close to you and she’s _here_ – at your parent’s house, in the tree house that you used to play in when you were a kid, watching the fireworks with you. Your throat is a little dry when you stammer out, “M-make resolutions?”

Lauren laughs. Her breath hits against your mouth as she murmurs, “All right, then. I’ve got a pretty good one.”

Her fingers fall to your cheek—

—and then she closes the gap between you and presses her lips on yours.

There’s a sharp tug at the back of your stomach. It’s soft and hot and you can’t stop yourself from pressing into her, kissing her back. Lauren softly moans when you part her lips with your own, deepening the kiss. Your hand curls around her neck, pulling her closer. _God_.

After a moment, Lauren pulls back slightly, though.

“Camz…” she says, “I’m really sorry about—”

You kiss her again, swallowing her apology with your mouth. She lets you kiss her for a couple more moments, before pulling back once more.

“I’m really sorry,” she says.

“I know,” you breathe against her lips.

“I never meant to—”

“Shh,” you cut her off. “Stop talking, Laur.”

“You sure? I don’t want to—”

“ _Lauren_ ,” you breathe out, feeling yourself get a little desperate. “Just fucking kiss me already.”

At that, she smiles, before bringing her lips down to yours again, kissing you hard. You quickly lose yourself in the sensation as you both start to pull a little harder on each other, trying to minimize the distance between you. All you feel is the heat of her mouth and the pull of her touch on your skin. You don’t really know how it happens, but one moment you’re still just sitting on the wooden platform of the treehouse, and the next you’ve climbed into Lauren’s lap, pressing her back against the tree in the middle pretty roughly, while you straddle her hips.

Her lips fall to your neck and you moan at the sensation.

“Lauren,” you breathe out, trying to catch your breath.

She looks up at you then, and you didn’t know what you were going to say, but the green of her eyes is all you need. Before you can stop yourself, you breathe out the only thing you’ve pretty much wanted to say to her all evening.

“I fucking want you in my bed right now…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> I hope you have a very lovely day! Let me know your thoughts! :)
> 
> -Blake


	18. 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> This chapter is explicit :)

LIII.

As soon as you stumble through your bedroom door, Lauren presses you back against the wall, hands on your hips, keeping you right in place. You let her do it, wrapping your arms around her waist to pull her even closer against you. She kisses you softly, slowly, at first, then harder, more demanding, hotter. You tug your fingers under the hem of her top, graze them over the bare skin of her stomach and smile into her mouth when she shivers under your touch. She lets out a shaky breath against your lips, breaking away from you for just a moment. You take good use of it, pulling on her hips and turning her around, switching your positions so she’s pressed against the wall now. Her mouth is so hungry on yours – it makes your head spin.

You try to take it slow, but you can’t – not really.

Her mouth is so hungry on yours – it makes your head spin more with every passing second. You let your lips fall to her neck. As you start to place hot kisses all over her skin, her movements become a little more desperate, fingernails digging into your back.

“Camila…”

You suck on the spot right beneath her jaw because you _know_ how sensitive she is there. Then, you press your fingers even closer against her skin, before dragging them up as you pull her top over her head a little roughly. She falls back against the wall and you try to catch your breath for a moment while you let your eyes trail shamelessly over her body – her pale skin, her gorgeous curves, the black fabric of her bra that you can’t wait to rip off—

Lauren smiles and then pushes your chin up with her finger. Her voice is raspy as she says, “Eyes up here, babe.”

You kiss her hard, bringing your hand up to her collarbone, before running it down right to her breast, running your fingers over the fabric covering her nipple. She moans at the sudden sensation and she grabs onto your hand, keeping it in place, writhing against you. You lean back a little, smiling teasingly. “Did you say something, Laur?”

Her eyes darken and her mouth parts. Then, she hooks her fingers under the hem of your t-shirt and pulls it up over your head in one swift movement, before wrapping her arms around your waist, pulling you flush against her. You can’t help but moan at the sensation of her bare skin against yours. You kiss her messily against the wall, softly moaning and gasping at all the shivers that keep running over your body.  

Heat is pulsing right through you. Your fingers disappear between your bodies – it takes you only a moment to unbutton her jeans. You slowly pull the zipper down, letting your lips fall down to her neck again as you feel her groan into your shoulder. As soon as you’ve got her jeans open, you start kissing your way further down her body, over her breasts, her stomach. You keep running your fingers over her nipples through the fabric of her bra, and then you get down on your knees in front of her, rolling her jeans down her legs. You take your time, teasing her, kissing her hotly between her thighs, licking right over her skin, until she’s in front of you in nothing but her underwear.

“Fuck…” Lauren hums, letting her head fall back against the wall, before abruptly pulling you up again, catching you off guard as she uses the momentum to switch your positions again.

“God,” she husks out against your ear, before moving down to kiss your neck. “You’re already driving me crazy.”

“Good…” you whisper back, moaning hard when she hits a particular sensitive spot on your collarbone. “Now – are you going to get me naked or what?”

Lauren groans at your words, kissing you again, while her fingers make quick work of your jeans. You kick them off as soon as they fall around your ankles. When you look up, Lauren is staring at you hard, eyes tracing all over your body.

You feel yourself heat up under her gaze. You let her look for a couple more moments, before stepping up to her and pushing her chin up with your fingers as you breathe out, “Eyes up here—” You close the distance, kissing her hotly before pulling back to let your tongue trail over the heated skin of her neck. “— _babe_.”

She swears under her breath. Then she grabs your hands and interlaces your fingers with her own, pulling you closer into her as her lips find yours again. You stumble through the room until Lauren’s legs hit the edge of the bed. You break away for a moment, stepping back and smiling at her.

“What?” Lauren says, breathlessly.

You push her kind of roughly against her shoulder. “Sit.”

Her hazy green eyes are focused on you and nothing but you as she lets herself be pushed down onto the edge of the mattress, red lips parting slightly as she watches you. You grin at her. Your body feels like it’s on fire when your fingers catch under the clasp of your bra. _Click._ Lauren swallows hard. You slowly pull one strap down your shoulders, then the other. You can hear Lauren inhale sharply – and then you drop your bra to the ground.

“Oh my God…” Lauren breathes out at the sight of you.

You’re blushing so fucking hard under her gaze, but you’ve never felt more confident in your entire life. Slowly, you curl your fingers under the waistband of your panties, before dragging them down your legs.

“Fuck,” Lauren says, “You’re – God – you’re so…”

You run your hand over your breast, eyes shutting closed at the sensation. _Fuck_ – that feels good. You do it again, softly tracing your fingers over your nipples, moaning as you feel them strain against your own touch.

“Camila…”

Your eyes open again at the sound of your name on Lauren’s lips. She’s staring at you intently. You give her a wicked smile, before letting your hand drop down, over your stomach, curling your fingers around the edge of your hip, even further down, right to the heat between your legs—

Lauren swears and then yanks harshly on your wrist, pulling you over until you tumble right on top of her on the bed.

“Oh no, baby…” she breathes into your neck, flipping you over so she’s the one on top, pinning your wrists down. “I’m the one who’s going to do that.”

There’s an intense tug in the center of your stomach at the sudden dominance in her voice. You can’t help but stare up at her breathlessly right before she kisses you again. Your hips buck upwards involuntarily as she lets go of one of your wrists and moves her hand down to your stomach, tracing her fingers over your skin.

You quickly hook your fingers behind her back, unclasping her bra in less than a second, only using one of your hands. She gasps a little in surprise, before trying to pin you back down again. You’re not letting her, though. You tug hard on the fabric of her panties, moaning, “Take these off. Now.”

She grins a little at you. “So impatient…”

“ _Lauren_.”

Her smile widens and then she allows you to pull her panties down. As soon as she lets herself fall into you, completely naked, you moan out loudly. _Fuck._ You can’t believe you’re feeling her skin on yours like this again. You push yourself completely up against her, hooking her leg between yours, fingers tangling in her hair, kissing her hard. It’s like she’s touching you everywhere all at once. You almost can’t take it.     

Lauren’s cheeks are flushed and her breathing is ragged as she pulls back for a moment, running her hands over your sides, over your hips, between your legs, teasing you—

You shiver under her touch.

“Laur—”

She bites her lip. “What do you want, baby?”

_Jesus._ You can’t think straight. She lets her mouth fall around your nipple, sucking softly on it, making your whole body jerk against her.

“Hm…” she says, increasing the pressure of her fingers between your thighs, dragging them up higher, closer to— “Should I do that again? Or do you want me to…”

She brings her hand up even higher and your entire body tenses at the way she’s _almost_ touching you right where you want it, but just not quite. She grins at you when she lets her fingers fall down from your thigh again.

“Fuck,” you swear under your breath. “Don’t— don’t—”

Lauren smiles against your lips, kissing you softly, before whispering again, a little more pressing, “What do you want, Camila?”

Your mind is not able to form any coherent thoughts, but you force yourself to look up into her eyes as you breathe out, “ _You._ Inside me. Right fucking _now_.”

Lauren’s eyes darken. Then, her fingers fall between your legs and your heavy moan is swallowed as she kisses you deeply, sliding her fingers in circles over you before pushing them right inside of you. 

“God,” she mumbles in your ear as she slowly starts to move, making your breath catch in your throat. “You feel so fucking good—”

You fall back into the pillows, fingers digging hard into your sheets, eyes closed. Your body is on fire under Lauren’s. Your lungs are burning with every stroke of her fingers. You want her all over you. All the time. You’re entirely and only spread out for _her_ – and you don’t care if she knows it, if she feels exactly how vulnerable she’s making you.

You pull her closer into you. “Laur – you’re… you’re so…” You’re struggling over your words. “I – I want you so much and – _oh my God—_ ”

Your entire body tenses and your hips jerk up again as she starts to increase her pace. God, you just can’t get enough. She kisses your lips, your jaw, your neck, your breasts—

“You’re so sexy,” she whispers into your skin and it rushes an entire new wave of feelings through you.

You bring her down harder on top of you, pulling on her hips until she’s straddling your thigh. She moans out at the sensation. _Fuck._ You can feel exactly how turned on she is. It makes you clench around her fingers, but you’re not ready yet – you want this to last for as long as possible, so you bring your hand up to Lauren’s shoulder and push her upwards. She slides out of you for a moment, a little confused as you just stare up at her, breathlessly.

“I want to watch you move,” is all you manage to get out.

At that, Lauren blushes hard, but then she pushes herself up so she is straddling your thigh. She gives you a wicked smile, running her hand through her hair, and then she starts grinding herself down on you, moaning as she lets herself go.

“Yes…” you breathe out. “Like that, Laur—”

Her head tilts back and you are fucking mesmerized – feeling your entire body tense up under hers. You cup her breasts with your hands and her movements immediately become messier, more pressing, more desperate—

“Oh my God, Camila…” she mumbles as she covers your hands with her own, pressing down even harder on your leg.

You can’t stop yourself – you abruptly grab hold of her legs and bring her forward, up to the headboard until your face is right between her thighs. You don’t waste another second, before pulling rather harshly on her hips. _Oh my fucking God._ You can’t suppress your moaning when you taste her and Lauren swears out an endless string of profanities above you, struggling to keep her body steady above your face.

Then, she leans back and pushes her hand back between your legs, still moving herself against your mouth, and you can’t think straight anymore. _Oh my God._ She pushes harder into and you are burning under her touch. There are shivers all over your skin, your entire body is trembling and she’s making you— fuck, you’re already— you’re not able to—

She seems to feel how close you’re getting because she pulls out of you rather abruptly and climbs off of you. For a moment, you’re breathless and disoriented, but then she’s right next to you, pressing into your body, holding you close as she breathes into your ear, “I’m going to make you come slowly, baby. I want you to feel _everything._ ”

Your breath catches in your throat at her words. You kiss her hard, before pushing her hips apart and letting your hand fall to her center as you start to draw slow circles over her. She moans into your shoulder and then pushes her fingers right back into you, running her palm over your clit at the same time. The sensation of touching her while she’s touching you is so _goddamn_ fucking intense—

You’re trembling against her.  

“Oh my God,” you breathe out. “Laur… Don’t – don’t stop…”

You push your fingers inside of her and she starts shaking against you more with every single stroke.

“Fuck, Camz – I’m—” Her breath falls short as her body falls into yours.

You can feel the heat building everywhere, you can feel all your muscles tensing, you feel Lauren pulsing hard around your fingers—

“Laur— I think I’m – I’m going to—”

“ _Fuck_ , yes—”

You kiss her hard, right as your body crashes into your orgasm. You gasp out as Lauren swears right into your skin when she comes only moments later. All you feel is heat and shivers and _Lauren_ – panting against you, kissing you, collapsing right on top of you.

It doesn’t stop.

You’re trembling and shaking and moaning as waves of release keep rushing right through you, through the both of you—

You fall into Lauren and you don’t ever want to be anywhere else again.

For the longest time you keep lying in the exact same position, breathing hard, while the thin layer of sweat starts to dry on your skin. Your kiss Lauren’s neck, before finally gathering enough breath to whisper, “Oh my God, that was…”

“God, I know,” she says, voice hoarse.

She kisses your lips briefly before pulling back and staring in your eyes. The green still makes your stomach flip – you don’t think you’ll ever get used to it.

A soft smile curls around her lips as she brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. “Hey, beautiful…”

You can feel yourself blush hard, but you bite your lip and try not to look away. Her face is so close to yours that you can see every single detail. Her dark eyelashes, the lines of her lips, the faint cut in her forehead that is neither bloody nor deep anymore – you bring your fingers up and softly stroke over it. Lauren shivers a little.

Your voice is soft and a little hoarse when you breathe out, “I love seeing all of you up close like this.”

The sentence doesn’t even really make sense, but it’s the truth and it’s all that you’re feeling and you want her to know that you’re feeling it, so you tell her. You’ve gotten so used to distance between the two of you – so often, you’ve positioned yourself with entire hockey fields between you, or on opposite sides of apartments or even with half of the United States standing in your way, like only a couple of days ago. But right now, you’ve never been closer.

It finally feels like neither of you is going to run away any time soon.

You lean in and kiss her. Her lips are warm and soft and familiar and you can feel it burn right in your chest – the thing you told your little sister about.  

Lauren pulls on your hip until every inch of your body is completely flush against hers and she keeps her hand right at your back, keeps you right where you’re supposed to be, kissing you softly.

After a moment, she pulls back and looks at you. “I want to apologize about something.”

It cuts right through the moment – making your stomach drop and your hands clench and your mind flash to all the things that you’ve been trying not to think about. She’s going to talk about what happened between you, or about Jessa’s party, or about sleeping with Cameron and you _can’t_ , you don’t want to _—_

“Lauren—”

“No,” she whispers. “I know what you’re trying to do. I know you’ve been trying not to talk about it, and we don’t have to, not about everything, not now, but there’s one thing you need to know, one thing I’ve really got to say, baby.”

You press your eyes closed and you pull away from her little, because _damn it_ , you were doing so well and now she wants to talk about all the other things, even though you’re not ready to admit how much she’s hurt you, even though you really don’t even want to think about it—

“I got scared,” Lauren says. “After we slept together in the hotel, in your bed during the second training weekend. I got so scared, because I was feeling so much and you were so fucking wonderful and I couldn’t handle it, because – because I’m not used to people sticking around so… so I didn’t want to feel all those intense things for you, I wasn’t ready and – and I thought that if I just told you— that if I told you—”

She looks at you then, letting her fingers fall to your cheek.

Her voice breaks a little when she whispers, “You’re not a game to me. You never were.”

Your throat feels tight as you swallow hard – and then you kiss her as soon as the meaning of her words hit you and some kind of relief that you didn’t even know you were waiting for starts to flood right through your chest. You pull her closer and closer and closer, legs tangling with hers, fingers intertwining, lips never leaving her mouth or her neck or her shoulder. You kiss her until you’re completely wrapped around each other and it feels like you’re one person rather than two.

You kiss it right into her skin, still too nervous to say it out loud. But it pulses through your chest and you’re not a game to her and this is what you feel, this is what you are to each other right now – no distance and no games – so you kiss it right into her skin with parted lips and an open heart.

_I’m in love with you, I’m in love with you, I’m in love with you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> Ooohh what do I even say? This entire chapter was pretty much explicit haha. But there was also some progress, right?   
> We'll get on with that in the next chapter ;)   
> Love you all! Have a great day!
> 
> -Blake


	19. 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: THE FLUFF IS UPON US! :)

LIV.

Sofi’s hair is completely covered in flour and there are at least seven cracked eggs spilled on the floor, but her face breaks into the biggest smile as soon as you walk into the kitchen.

“Surprise!” she yells out loudly.

You come to an abrupt halt, staring at the mess with wide eyes. “What are you doing?”

Sofi looks at you like it’s the most obvious thing. “I’m making pancakes.”

You stare at the kitchen counter. “What?”

“Pancakes!” Sofi grins and starts jumping up and down. “Because it’s the first day of the new year and because you are friends with Lauren again – and also because I really, really, really wanted to eat pancakes for breakfast.”

She turns around and starts to stir the mess in the gigantic bowl in front of her that you assume is a mixture of flour, eggs and milk.

“Sofi…” you say, as you start laughing. “You’re – you’re making pancakes?”

She smiles at you. “Come help me? We can surprise Lauren when she comes downstairs.”

You run a hand through your hair, unable to stop yourself from smiling. “Sof, you little monkey. I love you.” You walk over to her to take the mixer in your hands. “Here, I’ll do this for a while, then you can clean up all those cracked eggs before mamá comes downstairs, yeah?”

You spend the next twenty minutes trying to save your sister’s pancake recipe to the best of your abilities, while Sofi dances around you and sings top 40 songs off key and too loudly. Soon enough, the entire kitchen is smelling like pancakes and you can’t help but laugh and pull on Sofi’s arms as you make her dance around like a ballerina, while you wait until you can flip the pancakes around. She keeps holding up a spoon like a microphone right in your face until you finally give in and start singing along to whatever crazy pop tune your little sister is belting out.

“No one told me that One Direction was in town…”

You spin around.

Lauren is standing in the doorway to the kitchen, dressed in black shorts and one of your old field hockey jerseys from high school that is a little too small on her, giving you a nice glimpse of her toned stomach. Her hair is messy and she’s leaning against the doorway, hand on her hip, soft expression on her face. You feel yourself blush right away.  

“Lauren!” Sofi pulls away from you immediately and runs up to Lauren, hugging her close. Then, she makes a deep bow and squeals out, “Welcome to the Cabello Pancake Restaurant.”

Lauren grins and lets Sofi pull her into the kitchen. “The Cabello Pancake Restaurant? You don’t mean that famous five-star restaurant in Miami that’s run by Sofia Cabello, do you?”

Sofi laughs. “Camila runs it now. I’m the sous-chef.”

“Really?” Lauren turns and smiles teasingly at you. “I didn’t know Camila had any other talents besides field hockey and knowing all the lyrics to the entire One Direction discography, apparently.”

You don’t waste a beat. “Please – you, of all people, know that I’m talented at a lot of things.”

She blushes at the slight innuendo and there’s an immediate flutter in your chest at the sight of her reddening cheeks. God – you love seeing her like this. You still quite can’t believe how easy it is to make her flustered.  

Then, Lauren walks up to you and gives you a quick hug, before muttering under her breath, so Sofi won’t hear, “Really? Maybe you can show me later…”

You try not to smile, tugging on the fabric of her jersey and grinning as you look her up and down. “I really love your outfit choice today.”

Lauren’s smile only grows wider as she casually shrugs, “Something wrong with it? I could hardly come downstairs wearing what I went to bed in last night, now could I?”

You bite your lip hard at the thought of Lauren’s naked body and you lose yourself in it for a moment. When your vision clears again, Lauren is grinning at you, clearly very amused at the fact that she can get you flustered just as easily as the other way around. You glance at the pancakes, checking to see if they’re not burning, before tapping your sister on the shoulder. “Hey sous-chef, can you watch the pancakes for a moment please?”

Sofi nods eagerly and doesn’t even bother to ask you where you going when you quickly pull Lauren after you into the hallway.

“Camz, what are you—”

As soon as you’re out of your sister’s sight, you turn around and pin Lauren against the wall, kissing her hotly. She smiles into your mouth, before breaking away and muttering, “Oh, _that_ ’s what you’re doing…”

You kiss her again, pushing the hem of her jersey up and trailing your fingers over her stomach, sighing at the softness of her warm skin. Lauren shivers a little when you lean in even more to deepen the kiss.

“Hm…” you mumble, as you let your hand travel up higher under her shirt. “I _really_ like your outfit choice.”

Her eyes flutter shut as your fingers reach her ribcage and you realize with a little bit of a shock that she’s not wearing a bra. She smiles against your lips and you kiss her harder, pressing into her. It kind of makes you wonder if maybe—

You let the fingers of your other hand fall down under the waistband of her shorts, slowly tracing them down over her skin only to find that— _fuck_ , she’s also not wearing any—

Lauren smirks and then catches your wrist in her hand, humming softly in your ear, “Someone’s feeling horny after last night…”

You move your lips down her neck, before breathing out, “You’re the one not wearing any underwear.”

Lauren smiles at you and brings her fingers to your chin to kiss your lips again. After another heated moment, she pulls back from you and walks back to the door, leaving you a little breathless and bothered. She winks as she says, “Those pancakes were looking really good.”

You roll your eyes at her, groaning slightly. “You’re such a tease…”

Lauren only smiles at you, before disappearing back into the kitchen. You lean against the wall for a moment to catch your breath – it’s not even 9 o’ clock yet and this is what it’s come to already…

LV.

You’re not able to concentrate on anything.

Sofi’s on the floor in some kind of pillow fort she created for herself, and Lauren’s right next to you, on the couch. You’re all watching _Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban_ which is playing on the TV and you know you should be paying attention because Harry and Hermione are just about to use the time turner, which is your favorite part out of the entire movie – but you’re not able to concentrate on anything.

You just keep staring at Lauren.

She’s looking at the screen intently, smiling as Hermione punches Draco right in the face for the second time. You feel the corners of your own mouth curl up at the sight. Then, abruptly, she looks sideways, catching you a little off guard.

You quickly avert your eyes.

After a couple of moments, you can’t help yourself, though – and you look over again. She’s got her eyes on the movie, but she’s a little unfocused now and there’s a slight blush on her cheeks as if she’s realized damn well that you’re not able to take your eyes off her.

You feel your own cheeks heat up too.

Then Lauren mumbles, without taking her eyes off the screen, “You’re not watching the movie.”

You bite your lip. Sofi is lying on her stomach, staring up at the TV with wide eyes, too excited to notice anything going on behind her.

“Yeah, well,” you mumble. “You’re kind of distracting me.”

It seems like Lauren’s breath hitches in her throat, before she says, “I’m not even doing anything.”

She kind of has a point. That’s the problem. She’s not even doing anything and still, you’re not able to look away. You shift a little on the couch. Her eyes are glued to the screen. You run the tip of your tongue over your bottom lip, quickly glancing sideways. Thankfully, Sofi is not listening at all. You lower your voice as you breathe out, “The fact that you’re hot as fuck is what’s distracting.” 

At that, Lauren abruptly shifts and turns her head in your direction. Your stomach flips hard at the direct sight of her bright green eyes and her red lips and flushed cheeks. She sputters a little, not really making any sense, before exhaling shortly, running a nervous hand through her hair and biting her lip to keep herself from smiling.

It makes you bold – the fact that you can get her shy like this.

“What?” you tease. “Am I not allowed to say that or something?” She flushes even more and you can’t help but grin. “You’re blushing a little, Laur… ” 

“Oh, shut up,” she mumbles.

You stare at her mouth, grinning at the perfect opportunity. “Maybe you should make me.”

Her eyes go wide for a moment, but then her left eyebrow slowly kinks up in the most familiar way and she shifts a little closer to you, leaning in. You smile, biting your lip back, right before—

She doesn’t kiss you.

Instead, she leans back again abruptly and turns all her attention straight to the movie. Your mouth parts.

_Excuse me._

You shift a little, trying to get her to turn back to you, but she doesn’t give in. She just watches Harry blast his patronus over the lake as if you’re not right next to her trying to get her to make out with you… You softly press your elbow into her arm, trying to get her attention, but she doesn’t even look at you.

For fuck’s sake…

“Laur…” you mumble.

“Hm?” she says, not taking her eyes off the screen. “I’m watching the movie, Camz.”

You roll your eyes. If she wants to play it like this… You shift backwards on the couch, leaning against the arm rest, pulling your legs up so that you’re sitting sideways, facing her. Lauren doesn’t even glance in your direction. You swallow hard, trying to think of ways to bring her attention to you without making it too obvious that you _want_ her attention on you. You sink further into the couch and then spread your legs a little, bringing your hand up to your bare knee.

At that, Lauren’s gaze shifts.

You run the tips of your fingers mindlessly over your knee, not sure what you’re about to do – you are still in the living room obviously and your little sister is only a couple of feet away – but at the same time, if Lauren wants to tease you like that…

Two can play a game.

You spread your legs a little wider, before slowly, very slowly letting your fingers fall down to the inside of your thigh.

Lauren’s eyes lock into yours for a second. There’s a slight expression of shock on her face, but at the same time she doesn’t say anything, only watches as you run your fingers over the inside of your leg.

You can feel yourself blushing, because even though you’re not really doing anything, the intention is definitely _not_ that innocent anymore – but at the same time, the way Lauren is slowly getting all flustered while she watches you is making you feel so powerful. You can feel yourself grin – so much for trying to play it cool, Jauregui…

Your hand slowly traces down your leg, drawing her attention closer to the skin right below the hem of your shorts, closer to—

“I’m going to take a shower,” Lauren says very abruptly, almost jumping off the couch. You let your hand fall off your thigh again, smiling smugly at her. “Camila,” she says then, with a slight urgency to her voice. “Can you show me where the towels are?”

_Towels?_

She already took a shower yesterday, surely she knows where the – oh.

She doesn’t wait for your answer, just walks right out of the door and up the stairs. Your heart is racing in your chest and you’ve got no choice but to follow her. She’s already at the top of the staircase when you close the door to the living room behind you. You can feel your whole body tense with anticipation, so you quickly make your way to the first floor, opening the bathroom door—

She pulls you right over the doorstep, before slamming the door closed behind you and pressing you against it, kissing you hard.

_Jesus._

Someone suddenly decided to get onboard with your advances.

You let her kiss you hotly, relishing in how desperate she seems for it – relishing in the way she heats up your skin, in the way she traces her hands all over you, pulling on your clothes, in the way she makes you gasp when she sucks hard on your pulse point.

“These – off – now,” she says, between kisses, tucking on your shirt and on your shorts. “Damn you for teasing me like that…”

“You’re one to talk,” you breathe out, “Sitting there all sexy, like, ‘I’m watching the movie, Camz’ – as if you don’t know what I want.”

You pull her shirt – _your shirt_ – right over her head, losing yourself for a moment in the bare sight of her. She gives you a wicked smile, before stepping back and stripping off her shorts right in front of you, smirking at your sharp inhale and your stuttered “L-laur…”

Then, she’s back against you, completely naked now. She kisses you long, before pulling your shirt over your head and your shorts down your legs, so that you’re naked as well.

She turns on the shower and then pulls you into it. With the water crashing down on both of you, Lauren makes a point of kissing as much of your skin as she can, trailing hot paths over the curve of your neck, between your breasts, down your stomach—

“Nice game you were playing on the couch there…” she husks in your ear.

You bite your lip, head falling back at the way she manages to heat you up completely – first with the way she kisses you and then with the way she touches you, foaming the shower gel in her palms before sliding her hands all over your body – and then she steps back, cheeks red as she breathes out, “I want to see you touch yourself.”

_Oh my God._

It sends a sharp wave of tension through your body, the way she’s so blunt and honest about it. You fall back against the steamy wall, letting the water crash down on your body for a moment, while all you see is the intense green of her eyes, focused completely and only on _you._

Then, you bring your hand up to your neck and her gaze darkens slightly.

It’s one of the hottest sensations, trailing your hand slowly down your body while Lauren stares at you like it’s both the worst and best thing she’s ever seen – like she wants nothing else but to push you back against the wall and fuck you already, but also like she wants to watch you touch your own body forever.

Your hand falls down to the heat between your legs and you gasp out as you feel yourself.

“Fuck,” Lauren mumbles, “You’re so sexy.”

You moan loudly, letting your hand trace over your center in mindless circles, before pushing a little further down and slipping your fingers inside yourself.

“Oh my God…” Lauren breathes out.

“Laur—” you breathe out. “Come – here. I want…”

She bites down on her lip as the end of your sentence dies in your throat. “What do you want, baby?”

“I want you to—” You increase your speed, unable to slow down with the tension that is already building inside of you. “I want you to – I want you to do it…”

That is really all it takes. Before you even know what is happening, Lauren is back against you and then you barely register anything besides the way she kissing you and the way her hands seem to have mapped every inch of your body, knowing exactly how to touch you in ways that make you lose your breath completely – until the only thing you manage to get out is _Lauren,_ her name falling from your lips over and over again with every wave of pleasure that rushes through you.  

Your legs have barely stopped shaking, before you’re already switching your positions, claiming her, making her yours in every single way you know how – with your mouth and your fingers and your heart beating as close to hers as physically possible.

“Oh my God…” she whispers into your skin, the aftershocks of her orgasm still rushing through her body. “You’re so amazing.”

For a moment you both just stare at each other, panting and smiling and blushing. Lauren is looking at you so softly and then she says, “I love you like this.”

Your heart almost stops.

She seems to realize what she’s said almost as soon as the words leave her mouth and she stumbles over the rest of her sentence when she adds, “—I mean, like, all flushed and glowing – it’s so sexy.”

It’s clear that both of you know exactly what she said the first time around, though.

You pull her into you, not able to shake her words out of your head, only hearing over and over again how she not quite, not really, but at the same time _almost, kind of, sort of_ , said that she loves you.   

LVI.

In the afternoon, Lauren visits her mother. You offer to come along, but Lauren keeps insisting that she goes on her own, so eventually you give up, telling her instead that she should call you immediately if she changes her mind or if she wants you to come pick her up.

You’re in such a good mood all day that your mother even calls you out on it at some point. You try to laugh it off, but you can’t help but blush a little when she gives you a knowing smile and you feel like maybe she is not as oblivious to everything that’s going on between you and Lauren as you think she is.

She keeps her eyes on you all afternoon, so as soon as you get in the car to go pick Lauren up from visiting her mother’s, you decide that you don’t want to go home right away again.

“How do you feel about going to the beach?” you ask Lauren as soon as she gets into the car.

The smile on her face says enough.

“How did it go?” you say, once you’re on the highway. There’s only a little bit of hesitation to your voice. You’re still getting used to talking to Lauren about personal stuff, but it seems like something is changing between you, because you no longer feel like your throat closes off any time she pushes past your defenses and you’re not really all that scared to ask her about how she feels about things.

“It was all right,” she says. “Better than I thought it would be, actually. She was still very skeptical about everything, but she said she’s going to try and that’s the best we can hope for at this moment.”

You nod. “Have you talked about how you’re going to stay in contact when you go back to LA?”

“Yes,” Lauren says, “She actually asked if I wanted to join in on some of her therapy sessions via Skype…”

You think about it for a moment, before looking sideways to take in the expression on her face. “Are you ok with that?”

Lauren gives you a soft smile. “Yeah – I mean, it’s probably going to be difficult because we might have to talk about things that I don’t want to talk about at all, but I figured, if she is trying, I should try too, you know?”

You reach over to grab her hand and for a moment you realize how easy that has gotten – to just interlace your fingers through hers when you feel like it.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you ask then.

Lauren smiles at you, before bringing your interlaced fingers up to her lips and kissing them softly. It sends a flutter through your entire body. “Later,” she says. “For now, I just want to be with you.”  

You’re both quiet for a moment, and then you say, “When _do_ you actually go back to LA?”

Her fingers fall still in yours when she mumbles, “Tomorrow.”

_Oh._

It hits you a little harder than you’d expected. Then, Lauren says, “What about you?”

Your breath is a little shaky when you breathe out, “Only next week, right before the end of the holidays.”

Neither of you dare to say it out loud, but the fact that you are not going to see each other for at least a week hangs a little heavy between you. It almost makes you feel a little ridiculous. You’ll be fine – you haven’t seen Lauren for much longer than that before. Besides, it’s not like you’re _actually_ together, are you? And yet, with everything that is going on between you right now—

“I kind of wish we could hang out here in Miami a little bit longer,” Lauren says, voicing your thoughts exactly.

Going back to LA means going back to all the complexity that is your relationship – going back to field hockey and Cameron and scholarships and God knows what else.

“Yeah,” you mumble. “Me too…”

LVII.

She tackles you into the ocean, as soon as the waves reach up to your knees, making you scream and laugh at the same time while you stumble forward, falling right into the water, with Lauren half on top of you.

She smiles in your face, before wrapping her arms around your neck, straddling you in the breakers – and then she kisses you hard.

It pulses a shockwave right through your body because you’re in _public_ , and the only other times you and Lauren have actually kissed in public were in the swimming pool at the hotel when no one was around and in front of the LACMA in the middle of the night – apart from that it’s always been between the walls of apartments or against locker room benches or on top of hotel room beds—

—and now she’s kissing you, right in the middle of the day, like you’re _hers_ and hers only.

Your heart shoots up right to the sky, as you pull her closer into you, kissing her back, not feeling like you have to hide it for even a second.

A strong wave suddenly crashes right over the both of you, making you break apart from each other. Lauren smiles – so damn beautiful with her hair all tangled and wet – and then she grinds her hips down into you very suggestively, catching you completely off guard. Your mouth parts and all you want to do is pull her closer, but Lauren just laughs and splashes water right in your face, diving sideways, trying to get away from you before you can fully respond.

You burst out laughing, head falling back while you try to grab her ankle. You’re both in your underwear, because you didn’t think you were actually going swimming, but you don’t care that you will have to dry yourself with your clothes instead of with a towel later. You don’t care, because Lauren looks so fucking gorgeous and carefree that you almost can’t breathe.

You get to your feet and jump right on top of her before she can get out of your reach, wrapping your legs around her hips, making her fall back into the waves.

“Where did you think you were going, huh?” you mumble, right before connecting your lips to hers again and kissing her deeply.

She pulls back teasingly.

“I thought we were here to swim,” she grins. The glint in her eyes is almost too much for you to handle. “It’s not my fault that you can’t stay away from me…”

You tuck a wet strand of hair behind her ear. “Don’t flatter yourself, Jauregui.”

Lauren’s smile only grows wider. All you can see is the heavy green of her eyes as she mumbles, close to your lips. “All right then, maybe it’s actually the other way around.”

“That’s what I thought,” you breathe out, lips hovering right over hers, teasing her.

“Right…” Lauren says.

You press even further into her. She leans up to chase your lips, but you’re not letting her kiss you yet. She hums a little in frustration.

“Camila…”

You grind your hips down into hers now, in the exact same way she did before. “What was that, Laur?”

“Just – just kiss me already.”

You smile against her lips. “What’s the—”

“ _Please_ ,” she husks out before you can even finish your sentence. “The magic word is please. Now kiss me, damn it – _please, I mean_.”

“Fine, but only because—”

She cuts you off, bringing her hands up around your neck and pulling you in, already kissing you again. The way she’s touching your hips is causing shivers to run up and down your entire body. You don’t even know for you long you keep kissing, pushing and pulling on each other – both of you just completely lost in your touches and movements.

At some point, Lauren breaks away and looks at you, soft smile on her face.

“Thank you,” she breathes out. “For – for everything.”

You hug her close to you, smiling in her neck.

Then, Lauren says, “Did you know that 94 percent of life on Earth is aquatic?”

The abrupt switch in conversation catches you a little off guard but it makes you smile nevertheless. “I _did_ know that actually.”

Lauren smiles too. “I figured – well, how about the fact that the average depth of the oceans is more than 12,400 feet?” Her eyes go a little wide at her own words. “That’s crazy, right? Apparently photons can’t penetrate more than 330 feet below the water’s surface, which means that most of the planet is actually in a constant state of darkness – and scientists have only explored less than 5 percent of all the oceans.”

You laugh. “Damn, Laur – did you Google ‘Interesting Facts About The Ocean’ or something’?”

She blushes slightly, before adding, “Well, I had to do something during all those hours that you were at field hockey practice or at the library…”

Your breath hitches in the back of your throat. “Wait, what – seriously? You actually Googled it?”

“No,” she replies quickly. “I didn’t Google it – I just, well, I bought some magazines and stuff… I don’t know, I just couldn’t really shake it off after you said the ocean was the only other thing you were interested in besides field hockey, so I… I just thought – well, I don’t know.”

She’s blushing hard now and it feels like your heartbeat has turned into nothing but happy stutters.

“It’s actually really interesting to read about all of it,” Lauren rambles on. “And I know you said you didn’t think you could actually do anything with it, as a career – but there is so much research being done and stuff – and I found out that UCLA actually has a program in Marine Biology, so maybe you could check that out sometime… and I just… I wanted to read those magazines because I don’t anything about the ocean, but I thought, like, maybe if you want to talk about it sometime – with me, or… or something—”

Your mind is spinning. You don’t even know what to focus on – the fact that Lauren has memorized random facts about the ocean, or that she’s apparently been looking into Marine Biology programs at UCLA, or that it seems like she did those things for _you_ , for if you want to talk to her about or it or—

You kiss her hard, before breathing out against her lips. “God, Laur, I like you so fucking much.”

She draws back. “W-what?”

The tension sifts right away. You feel the familiar rush of panic and there is heat spreading through your body at the intensity of your own words. Your stomach clenches a little nervously, because you didn’t know you were ready to tell her, and you still don’t think you are, but at the same time, at the same you just—

“I really like you,” you mumble, pushing through your nerves, your gaze flicking down from her eyes because the green is just too much. “As in, I _really_ , insanely, don’t-know-what-to-do-with-myself-because-you-make-me-so-damn-nervous _like_ you…”

Lauren’s eyes widen a little, but then she softly pushes your chin up with her fingers, making you look her in the eyes again. Her face is so close to you that you can see the drops of water on her dark eyelashes.

Then, she stutters out, “Camz – I think I’m… I want to tell you – I’m…”

Her voice wavers and she halts, breaking her gaze away from yours, as the sudden nerves take over. You can see her swallow hard, see her trying to gather the courage to—

“Baby,” you whisper, lips grazing against her cheek.

She looks at you then, before breathing out, voice all hoarse and strangled, “I-I’m so scared—”

Her skin is soft and salty against your mouth. “Of what?”

All you feel is the pull of the ocean waves around you and Lauren’s heart beating so goddamn close to yours as she stutters out, “—of being in love with you.”

It’s the most vulnerable thing you’ve ever heard her say.

Your chest tightens and it’s like the world closes in on the both of you as her words echo in your mind. You don’t know what to say, so your empty exhale hitches against her lips. Your mind is spinning, so you almost miss the way Lauren adds, “I-I’m trying not to be, though.”

It doesn’t really register. “What?”

Her voice is close to a whisper when she breathes out, “I’m trying not to be scared, because I can’t stop it – and I don’t – I don’t want to fight it anymore, because I’m… Camz, I—” She looks you right in the eyes. “I think I am – in love with you, I mean.”

Your heart gives out completely.

“Lauren—” Your voice is strangled, sudden tears burning behind your eyelashes. You didn’t know what it would feel like to hear her say it out loud, but all you know is that you want to feel it _forever._ You kiss her hard, right before finally giving in, admitting to the truth when you breathe against her lips, “I think I’m in love with you too.”

She falls into you even more. There’s an absentminded part of you that registers that the first time you kissed Lauren, you were in a swimming pool, the first time you had sex with her, you were in a shower, and now – now you’re in the waves of the ocean and you’re in love with her and it is _fucking_ scary but it’s also the most powerful thing you’ve ever felt in your entire life.

“I’m not…” Lauren whispers. “I don’t know if I’m – I’ve still got so much stuff to figure out and I don’t know if I can already give you—”

She sounds so panicked.

“Laur – it’s ok,” you tell her. “It’s ok – I know that it’s—”

“You mean so much to me,” she says, cutting you off before you can finish your sentence. “I want you to know that.” Her eyes lock into yours as she breathes against your lips, “Above everything else, through every stupid thing I’ve done, despite all the ways I’ve hurt you by trying to push you out – you mean _so much_ to me.”

You swallow hard and hook your legs closer over hers, pulling her further into you. “Laur,” you whisper. “I’m falling in love with you so hard that I don’t think it’s ever going to stop.”

And then, because you feel it in the very core of your bones and because she needs to hear you say it, over and over again until she believes you, until she feels it too, you whisper, “— and I’m not going anywhere.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> Ahh my babies <3 What did you guys think? Let me know!  
> Love you all and hope you have a fantastic day, wherever you are in the world!
> 
> -Blake


	20. 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> And the fluff just continues!! :)

LVIII.

“What do you have in your neck?”

Sofi stares up at Lauren in confusion, her fork fallen still in her hand. You follow your sister’s gaze right to where Lauren just flipped her long, dark hair over her shoulder, accidentally revealing the bright red mark of a hickey.

_Fuck._

“Hm?” Lauren says, oblivious to what exactly Sofi is referring to.

Your sister points at it, before giggling behind her hand. “It looks like you have a bruise in your neck.” 

At that, Lauren’s eyes go wide. She gives you a panicked look, before stammering out, “Oh – that’s – that’s nothing, Sofi.”

She quickly pulls her hair back over her shoulder again, covering the hickey, but Sofi is not convinced yet.

“Did you fall?” she asks.

“Y-yes,” Lauren answers a little breathlessly. “I fell – on my neck – against the edge of the bed.”

Sofi’s eyes go wide and you cringe hard at the ridiculous lie. You notice that your dad has suddenly stopped eating, looking at Lauren with a small frown on his forehead. You can feel your cheeks heat up. Oh God – this is terrible. Your mother’s eyes are slightly narrowed, as if she’s trying to solve a difficult math problem. Sofi just looks concerned.

“Do you want a kiss on it?” she asks sweetly, reaching over the table to grab Lauren’s hand.

“N-no, thank you,” Lauren mumbles, voice a little hoarse.

You bite hard on the inside of your cheek, while a slightly uncomfortable silence falls over the dinner table. Lauren’s cheeks are flushed and she quickly grabs her glass of water.

After a moment, your mother says, “Lauren, I didn’t get the chance to ask you yesterday – how have you been sleeping? Is everything all right for you in the guestroom?”

Lauren almost chokes on her water.

“Oh—” she says, coughing, while her face turns even redder. “I-I’ve been sleeping very well, thank you.”

“Does anyone still want some salad?” you quickly cut in, grabbing the big salad bowl and holding it up to your family members. “Anyone? Some salad?”

No one says anything, so you quickly put the salad bowl down again, turning your attention back to the plate in front of you.

“So, Lauren,” your dad says then, “Remind me again, what position do you play on the team?”

Happy to have the subject switched into safer territory, Lauren beams at your dad’s question. “I play center forward, sir,” she says, before adding, “Well, usually, at least. At UCLA, I’ve been playing right wing, too.”

Your dad smiles. “Right – because Camila plays center forward of course.”

“Papa…” you say.

Your father turns to you. “Did I say something wrong?”

You can feel your chest tightening. You haven’t really talked about field hockey with your dad since your last argument. You’re not sure if now is a good moment to pick up where you left off.

Lauren bites down on her lip for a moment, before trying to lighten the air and saying with a soft smile, “No, you’re right, sir. Out of the two of us, Camila is definitely the better center forward.”

“Laur, that’s not true,” you say. “You’re absolutely amazing. You’re so damn talented and focused and—”

You stop talking abruptly when you realize that your dad’s frown is only getting deeper and your mother’s eyes go wide at your use of the word _damn_ in front of your little sister. Sofi smiles a little smugly, opening her mouth to comment on it, but before she can say anything, your dad already starts talking again.

“Well,” he says, shaking his head a little. “Either way, I reckon both of you will really need to step it up for the next half of the season – especially after that dreadful game you lost in front of those scouts.”

You can feel a simmer of anger in the center of your chest, but before you can say anything else, your father adds, “I assume you want to pursue a professional career in field hockey, too, Lauren?”

Lauren shifts a little uncomfortably in her chair. “Yes – I mean, I’d like to, sir, but I also like to keep my options open.”

Your father’s eyes narrow ever so slightly and the tight feeling in the center of your chest increases. “What does that mean exactly?”

Lauren tucks her bottom lip back with her teeth. “I’d like to play field hockey and if I’m lucky enough I hope to pursue a career in it – but I don’t want it to dominate my entire life, so I’m also exploring other options.”

You hold your breath, while your dad thinks on that. Then, he says, rather briskly. “Then what are you doing on the team exactly?”  

Something snaps inside of you. “ _Papa_.”

Your mother reaches out to place her hand over yours, but you shrug it off, anger spiking in your veins.

“What now, Camila?” Your father looks at you, genuinely confused. “All I’m saying is that it might not be beneficial for the team if certain players are not entirely focused on what’s at stake, because they are ‘keeping their options open’.”

He glares so specifically at Lauren that your anger rips right through you.

“First of all,” you snap. “It’s thankfully none of your fucking business what Lauren chooses to do or not to do.”

“ _Camila_ ,” your mother cuts in, eyes wide.

Sofi gasps, before stammering. “Now you have to put _two_ dollars in the swear jar…”

You ignore them both.

“Second of all,” you snap. “Maybe there are more important things than field hockey. Maybe _some_ people care more about being a compassionate, intelligent and driven individual than about some fucking game.”

“Camila, do _not_ talk to your father like that—”

“Three dollars—”

“Camz—” Lauren starts, but you don’t let her cut in.   

It’s like something has been torn loose inside your chest, something that’s been stuck for a very long time.

“And finally,” you cut out, aiming your words directly in your father’s face. “Just so you know, I’m actually ‘keeping my options open’ too, because I’m done with doing things only for you. I’m fucking done with living _your_ dream for you.”

Your father stares at you hard. You’re breathing is a little uneven, but at the same time there’s a strange kind of clarity in your head. You didn’t even realize how much you’d been building up to saying these things. You still don’t know exactly what you’re trying to say – but at the same time, you know that you’re getting closer to something inside of you that you’ve been trying to ignore for as long as you can remember.

Your mother bites her lip and shakes her head at you, a slight look of hurt on her face. Sofi just stares at her plate, not even commenting on you swearing another time.

Lauren shifts, before looking up at your father, who still hasn’t moved or said anything. “I’m sorry, sir,” she stammers. “I didn’t mean to cause any negativity.”

At that, your father turns to her. His expression changes right away.

“No, I’m sorry,” he says. “It wasn’t my intention to be confrontational. I’m sure the team is very lucky to have you. My apologies for the way I phrased my concerns.”

For a second his face softens and you almost feel guilty, because you _know_ your dad – you know he really didn’t mean to be confrontational.

“Papa…” you mumble.

“It’s all right, Camila,” he says, rather briskly, keeping his gaze forward. “Let’s finish our dinner.”

He doesn’t look at you for the rest of the evening and he doesn’t mention field hockey again.

LIX.

After dinner, Sofi wants Lauren to sing karaoke with her. She doesn’t bother to ask you, so you chase her down the hallway, and wrestle her to the ground for choosing Lauren over you. You make sure to tickle her so hard that she forgets all about the tension at dinner.

Eventually, she chokes out between breaths and laughter, “You – can – join.”

“Thanks,” you say, “But I think I’ll just help mamá with cleaning the kitchen for a little while, so your lucky butt gets to have Lauren all to yourself.”

Sofi grins in your face. As you pull her up off the floor by her hands, you can’t help but look at Lauren. She’s blushing softly, smiling at you with the sweetest smile. It sends a flutter through your entire body. You haven’t been alone with her since you got home from the beach, and there’s a really strong part of you that just wants to drag her up the stairs already so you can kiss her senseless in your bedroom. But at the same time, you know that it’s a good thing to help your mother for a bit, especially after that stupid fight during dinner. You also can’t help but love the fact that your little sister wants to spend time with Lauren so much.

Sofi’s already running up the stairs, yelling at Lauren to come after her, but for a moment, you and Lauren just stand in the hallway, staring at each other.

“See you in a bit?” Lauren says then, voice deliciously hoarse and shy.

You bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling too much. “Yes – I’ll come steal you away again as quickly as I can.”

At that, Lauren blushes even harder. Then, she runs her hand through her hair, before blurting out, “I can’t wait to be in bed with you.”

A rush of heat pulses through your body. You slowly step forward, smiling at her when you mumble, “Oh, really? I thought you said you’ve been sleeping ‘so well’ in the guest bedroom?”

Lauren shakes her head. “No,” she says, before adding, “I can only sleep well when I’m naked against you.”

Your stomach flips. You’re just about to lean up and press your lips against hers, when Sofi’s voice comes from the top of the stairs, calling for Lauren again.

Lauren leans back, grinning at you. “Gotta go,” she mumbles, with a smile. “I’ll kiss you later.”

You fall against the wall, a little frustrated.

Right when Lauren reaches the bottom of the stairs, though, she suddenly spins around again. In less than a second she’s in front of you, mumbling something that sounds a lot like _fuck later_ and then she kisses you – quickly, hotly, dizzyingly – before running up the stairs, not bothering to look back at your blushing face. You run a hand through your hair, unable to stop smiling. God – it feels like your heart is going to beat right out of your chest.

When you make your way into the kitchen, your mother is already almost done with cleaning, but you grab a washcloth anyway and start clearing the kitchen counter top. For a while, you both just clean alongside each other in silence. Your dad has disappeared into the living room, probably watching a hockey game on TV.

“I think Lauren is a really lovely girl.”

You look up, staring at your mother in surprise. She’s standing with her back against the kitchen counter, looking at you with a soft smile on her face. “I can tell you really like her.”

Heat shoots up to your cheeks. “I don’t—” you stutter and cough a little. “I mean, yeah, she’s great – and I do, I mean, I do… like her. But it’s not like… I don’t—”

Your mother’s smile widens. For a moment she just looks at you, while you stand in front of her trying not to blush too much. Then, she says, “Mija, don’t you think a mother can tell when her daughter is in love?”

You choke on your own breath. Your mother smiles at you, before leaning over and tugging a strand of hair behind your ear. You don’t know where to look.   

“I’m not – what are you—”

Your mother doesn’t say anything else, just steps forward and wraps her arms around your body, pulling you close to her. You let yourself fall into her embrace, easily falling into the familiar warmth. You feel so damn nervous suddenly that you’re almost shaking. Your mother notices it right away. She pulls back with a laugh.

“What’s wrong, my love?” She puts her hands on your shoulders to steady you. “You didn’t think it would be a problem, did you?”

You don’t know what to think. Your head is spinning.

“Mamá,” you stammer then, before breathing out, “I don’t know what – I mean, I – I’ve never really felt like this—”

“Talk to me, mija,” your mother says then and you do.

You tell her everything – or as much as you can without scarring your dear mother for life – and she just listens. After a while, she hands you a mug of tea and a package of chocolate chip cookies and the longer you talk, the easier it gets, the lighter you feel. You have never really had any discussions with your parents about your sexuality or about the people you’ve been with in general because the only focal point within your family has always been field hockey – but now, you notice that your mother’s presence actually makes it easier to breathe through your nerves.

Your tell her how intimidated you were when Lauren first joined the team, about all the tension and the fighting, about her accident and about her family situation and about the way her eyes light up when she talks about art. You try to construct your messy feelings into sentences, try to make sense of everything that has happened completely outside of your control – how you’ve tried so hard to keep your focus on field hockey, but Lauren just had to go and mess it all up—

“She’s just—” you stammer out. “Mamá, I don’t even know how to explain it – she makes me… well, it’s like there’s this whole world outside of field hockey and when I’m with her, I don’t think about – well, I just want to be with her and – and feel… all those things.”

It doesn’t make sense, but your mother just smiles, as if it does.

“I know, mija,” she says, bringing her fingers up to your cheek. You softly smile and your mother pulls you into her again, whispering close to your ear, “Just so you know – it’s ok if you don’t figure everything out at once.”

It calms the waves of feelings inside of chest a little bit.

“All right,” your mother says after a moment, pulling back. “Thank you for helping me clean the kitchen.” She presses a kiss to your forehead. “Try not to grow up all at once, my love.”

You smile and back away from her, in the direction of the door. “Thank you, mamá – I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Your mother smiles and nods. Then she says, “One more thing, mija.” She grins and gives you a look, before adding, “No one in this house can properly make their bed except for me – and so I couldn’t help but be a little surprised at the fact that the covers of the bed in the guest room are still folded to perfection.”

Your eyes go wide. _Fuck._

“But for everyone’s sake,” your mother continues, “I’ll play along with that lovely white lie you two tried to pull off during dinner. I think that’s probably best for both of us.”

You flush scarlet in less than a second. “Right – that’s just… I’m – I’m going upstairs – bye.”

“Tell your sister that it’s time for bed.”

You run up the stairs before the entire conversation takes a turn for the worse.

LX.

When you step over the doorstep of Sofi’s bedroom, your breath hitches in the back of your throat. Sofi is sitting on her bed, staring at the screen of your old computer on her desk where the lyrics to Maroon 5’s _She Will Be Loved_ are on full display – but that’s not what catches your attention.

Damn it, of course she can _also_ sing. As if you weren’t enough of an idiot for this girl, already… 

You fall back against the wall, feeling your heart speed up in your chest as you watch Lauren – dressed in one of your gray sweatshirts, hair still messy from the shower – fill your little sister’s bedroom with her raspy, sexy, _perfect_ voice, while she softly sways her hips on the beat.

You’re pretty sure you could stand there forever and just listen to her, but of course, your sister notices your presence right away and she shoots upwards, gesturing for you to come sit next to her. You put your finger to your mouth, signaling to Sofi to keep silent, while you walk over and climb on the bed.

As soon as Lauren’s gaze falls on you, she immediately flushes and messes up the lyrics.

You can’t help but smile at that, never taking your eyes off of her. She runs a hand through her hair, bites her lip and then closes her eyes to keep focused on the melody. As soon as the last note plays, she opens her eyes again and you blow her a kiss, making her blush even harder.

“Ok,” she says, voice a little hoarse. “Your turn again, Sofi.” 

Sofi already jumps up, but you quickly grab her arm. “Actually, mamá told me that you have to start getting ready for bed.”

She pouts. “I don’t want to go to sleep. I want to stay up with you and Lauren.”

You ruffle her hair. “I know – but it’s getting late, and besides, don’t you think I deserve a little bit of time with Lauren now?” Lauren shifts on Sofi’s other side and you wink at her over your little sister’s head, relishing in the way your words get her flustered in less than a heartbeat, before turning back to your sister. “What’s that word again? It starts with the letter ‘s’ – sha… share… Oh right – sharing!”

Sofi gives you a bold smile. “I’m already sharing. You get to have Lauren for the rest of the year in LA, so I get to have her right now.”

You laugh out loud. “Except _right now_ you are going to bed.”

Sofi sighs, before falling over into Lauren’s side and hugging her tightly, mumbling into her shoulder. “I don’t want you to leave tomorrow…”

Your smile fades from your face instantly. Right – she’s leaving tomorrow. You almost forgot.

You watch as Lauren hugs Sofi close to her and then says, “I’m sure we’ll see each other soon again, ok?”

Sofi leans back again, nodding slowly. Then, a smile curls around her lips and she giggles a little, before blurting out, “Did you know that girls can be in love with girls?”

You jump off the bed right away, pulling on your sister’s hands. “Ok, it’s really time for bed now—”

Lauren grins at your little sister. “I did know that,” she says. “But why do you ask, Sof?”

Sofi laughs even louder. “I think I’m still not supposed to tell you, but Camila said that she—”

You push one hand over her mouth of your sister’s mouth, before picking her up with your other arm and carrying her out of the room and into the bathroom where you put her down again.

“Go brush your teeth,” you say, trying not to smile at the glint in her eyes.

You immediately close the bathroom door behind you, before she can embarrass you even more. Lauren is standing at the end of the hallway, hand on her hip.

“So…” she mumbles with a smile, “Did you know that girls can be in love with girls?”

You bite down on your lip. “What? No, that’s ridiculous. Completely impossible.”

Lauren takes a step closer in your direction. “Hm… I beg to differ.”

Your stomach flips at her words. She puts her hand on the doorknob to your bedroom and smiles a little suggestively. Your voice is a little raspy when you breathe out, “Where do you think you’re going?”

She grins. “I don’t know – I thought we could… watch a movie or something.”

“My laptop is downstairs.”

“Hm,” Lauren says. “Too bad. Guess we’ll have to find something else to do, then.” She pushes the door to your bedroom open. “What could we possibly do with ourselves?”

You can’t help but grin, stepping up to her and kissing her lips, before pushing her right back into your bedroom, kicking the door closed behind you.

LXI.

“You know what I was thinking about?”

“Hm – the fact that I just made you come, like, three times in—”

“Camz, I’m serious…”

“Yes, seriously _horny_ , you insatiable—”

“…”

“…”

“… you were saying?”

“Hm, way to shut me up…”

“Who’s insatiable now, huh?”

“Your stupid, gorgeous eyes were distracting me.”

“You’re cute when you’re blushing – anyway…” Lauren curls her arm over your stomach and folds her naked body closer into yours.

You press your lips against her forehead, kissing her softly. “What were you thinking about, baby?”

“I was thinking about something I read.” She smiles. “Apparently, the ocean is the largest museum in the world. It has more relics, artifacts, ruins and shipwrecks than all the world’s museums combined.” She brushes her nose in your neck, “I don’t know… I thought it was kind of cool. You really like the ocean and I really like museums, so…”

You can feel your lips curl upwards. With your fingers you softly trace circles over her back, pressing her even more into you, before breathing out, “Who would have thought you were such a romantic, huh?”

She scoffs a little defensively, breath hitting your neck. “I’m not a romantic – I just thought – I don’t know, I thought it was a funny coincidence, that’s all – there’s nothing _romantic_ about—”

You push her chin up and kiss her, silencing her effectively. She stares at you when you break away again, soft haze in her eyes.

“I love it, Laur,” you mumble. “I love that you think about this kind of stuff.”

She blushes a little, smiling, before pushing herself more on top of you as she groans out, “God, you’re making me soft, Cabello…”

You grin, before tucking her hair back and kissing her hotly. Her leg falls between yours and you can’t help but feel your skin heat up – you’ve been in bed for hours already, talking and kissing and doing… _other things_ that have made your body entirely sensitive to even the smallest touches.

After a moment, you roll Lauren softly over onto her back, so that you’re the one lying half on top of her while you lazily continue kissing. When you break away, your hand falls to her cheek and you let yourself shamelessly get lost in the colour of her eyes.

“How are you feeling?” you breathe out.

She smiles at you. “I’m feeling really good.” She presses a soft kiss to your lips, before looking at you again, eyes slightly narrowed as she breathes out, “Thank you for always asking me that – I know it’s just a simple question, but it actually means so much to me, especially with… with everything that’s been going on.”

You softly brush your nose against her cheek. “I know – that’s why I’m asking.”

She takes a deep breath, before mumbling, “I’m actually a little nervous about going back to LA.” Her fingers fall still on your lower back. “I have to think about my scholarship and the fact that I still haven’t been cleared completely for hockey and… about how to take care of my siblings and—” Her voice wavers. “—and about… what is going to happen to us, with – with the way I fucked up the last time and… and we haven’t really talked about that yet, so I don’t know—”

Your chest tightens. You know exactly what she’s referring to. She’s right of course – you haven’t really talked about that yet. Mostly, because it makes your stomach hurt in the most painful way and because you’ve been thinking to yourself that maybe if you and Lauren just pretend that none of that ever even happened, maybe it will be ok, maybe you can just—

“Camz,” Lauren says, snapping through your thoughts. Her voice is strangled when she says, “I am so sorry about Cameron.”

Your mind is spinning.

“It’s ok,” you stammer, even though it actually hurts in every fiber of your being to even think about it. “It’s ok – I also – I mean – there was this other girl and I guess… it’s just what happened, Laur, we can’t change it.”

“No, I know,” she breathes out. “But it’s not ok. I should never have done it. I used her to mess with you and that is unacceptable – and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for using you both when I couldn’t deal with my own fucked up feelings…”

There are tears burning in her eyes. She shifts a little against you and then she says, a little abruptly, “I always thought my dad was the greatest person in the world, you know?”

Your hand falls still against her cheek and she takes a shaky breath. “Especially with everything that I couldn’t understand about my mom’s situation. He was always there, levelheaded and strong and understanding. And – and then he left.” She bites down on her lip. “He was the greatest person in the world, but he still left. And that’s – that’s something…”

It sounds like she chokes up and you pull her closer into you. Her eyes are glazy and uncertain when she stutters out, “That really messed me up and I guess I just want you to know that I’m really not an easy person to be with – and… people leave, even when they say they won’t – and I’m so scared – because I keep thinking that you’re going to realize that you don’t actually want to be with me and then—”

“Lauren, I love you.”

It falls from your lips – and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.

She stares at you, snapped out of it, chest heaving up and down. “W-what?”

There’s a second in which all you feel is your heartbeat in your ears and then—

“I love you,” you breathe out, again, your voice all strangled and hoarse.

Her face breaks and the tears start rolling down her cheeks, onto your skin. She’s trembling against you and you can’t believe this is happening – you can’t believe that she can even _honestly_ think that you don’t want to be with her.

“I’m sorry,” you choke out. “I don’t want to freak you out – I really don’t. But, I love you and I want you to know – and I don’t care if I’m not supposed to say it yet. I don’t care, because you… You mean the whole fucking world to me and _that_ ’s what I want you to know – that is what I want you to think about, ok? All the hockey fields and all the oceans and the—”

She kisses you. She kisses you so hard that all the air gets pushed right out of your lungs and you gasp into her mouth, while she falls against you. Your chest is on fire.

“I love you too,” Lauren says then, and it’s like you have not really lived until this point.

You push her hair out of her face. “All those things we’re scared off – we can deal with them, ok? We’ll figure it out.”

Lauren kisses you again, softer this time, her skin hot on yours. You put your fingers on the back of her neck and pull her into you, before rolling her onto her back. Her mouth parts as she falls a little further back into the pillows. You kiss slowly, heatedly, until heavy shivers are running up and down your back with the way Lauren traces her fingers over your body. Your lips fall down to her neck and you softly kiss her collarbone, causing her to let out a throaty noise that shoots right down your burning body.

“You’re so beautiful,” you whisper, making your way down the valley between her breasts, kissing her softly, over and over again, interlacing your fingers through hers and pushing yourself completely on top of her. She softly moans at the sensation. You let your hand fall between your bodies, softly running it over her stomach, up her ribs, fingers grazing over her nipple—

Her head falls back. “Oh my God…”

You kiss her, letting your hand fall down to her thigh, stroking her heated skin, while you keep pressing your lips to her body. Your head is completely clouded – all you know is that you want to let her feel how much you love her as slowly and intensely as possible.

“Camz…” she mumbles, voice laced with emotion.

You kiss her lips, before bringing your hand up and softly cupping her center. She whimpers against your lips and your eyes fall shut as you feel her shudder against you. You kiss the spot right below her jaw, while your fingers stroke soft, slow circles over her. She moans a little louder and you can’t help but lean up a little, so you can see her.

“Baby,” you whisper against her lips. “Look at me.”

She opens her eyes and _fuck_ – she makes your breath catch in your throat. You stare right into her eyes when you slide inside of her, holding her gaze. Her chest is moving up and down in heavy breaths. You kiss her lips again, kiss her neck again, kiss her wherever your lips land – and you can feel yourself falling harder with every passing moment. Her fingers dig into your back and her breath is heated against your shoulder.

“Oh, God… you’re—” She stutters. “You have no idea what – what you’re doing to me…”

The rasp in her voice makes your entire body shiver. Lauren’s breathing goes more uneven by the second – her hips buck upwards and you stare right into her eyes as she husks out, “Baby – I’m… I’m close…”

You kiss her, swallowing her moans as you slowly keep moving inside of her, dragging it out while her body starts shaking and her muscles tense all around you, and then you breathe out, “I love you so fucking much,” and she comes with your name on her lips.

She pulls on your hips and you collapse right on top of her.

“Camz,” she whispers into the skin of your neck. “That was – I’ve never felt so…”

You push yourself up again to stare right into her eyes, when you mumble against her lips, “Me neither.”

She kisses you and this is it – all the hockey fields and all the oceans and all the rest of it, too. This is all the world.  

LXII.

“Are you sure you’ve got everything?”

Lauren nods. “I’m sure.”

“Right,” you mumble. “Well, call me when you land, ok?”

A soft smile curls around her lips. “Of course. Will you thank your parents again? And say hi to Sofi for me?”

You nod, swallowing hard. Lauren strokes her fingers over your cheek. “It’s only a couple of days – and after that, I’ll be all over you again, to the point where you’re going to regret that you even came back to LA.”

You smile, despite the heavy feeling in your chest. “I don’t think I could ever get enough of hanging out with you, to be honest.”

At that, Lauren’s expression changes slightly. “Yeah – about that…” She runs her hand through her hair, a little nervous suddenly. “I actually meant to ask you – when we’re both back in LA, do you maybe want to go out with me some time – on a…” She blushes hard. “On a…”

Your heart flutters in your chest. She bites her lip and runs her hand through her hair again, the gesture always making your head spin.

“On a…?”

She bites her lip. “Well, _you know_ , a – like, a…”

“A what, Lauren?” you tease her.

She sighs. “Camz – don’t make fun of me. You know what I mean. Do you want to go out with me on a…”

“You mean a… date?” you say, smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

She flushes scarlet. “Yes,” she nods. “I mean – it’s ok if you don’t want to, but I’d really like to take you out. Like, properly, take you out – You know, on a – a – yeah, well _– that_ …”

You can’t help but laugh. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Lauren Jauregui. I don’t usually accept half-invitations”

She breathes out. “Well, sorry – you make me nervous.”

You wrap your arms around her neck, pulling yourself close against her, before mumbling in her ear, “Of course I’ll go on a date with you.” And then, because you feel like it and because it’s the truth, you softly add, “I’m yours, ok?”

Her lips fall against your cheek as she breathes out, “I’m yours, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> Hey lovely people,
> 
> How are you all doing? I hope you liked the chapter! Let me know what you think in the comments! :)   
> On a different note, I've been really ill for a couple of days already, completely feverish and all that, so I haven't really gotten around to writing much. On top of that, my new courses at university started again this week, so updates might be a little slower from now on. But I promise I'll try my best.   
> Hope you all have a great day wherever you are in the world! 
> 
> BY THE WAY, I've started posting on Wattpad as well. Username is: Blake0Tyler, so come check me out if you're over there as well. :) 
> 
> -Blake


	21. 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> I can't stop writing romance. What is happening to me. Enjoy! :)  
> Love,  
> Blake

LXIII.

“I have no idea what he wants to talk to me about, but Martin said to meet him in his office at five, so…”

You fall back on the couch. “Hm, ok – well, it’s probably about your scholarship.”

Lauren takes a nervous inhale on the other side of the line. “Yeah, I don’t know… We’ll see, I guess.” She’s silent for a moment, before mumbling, “I’m sorry I can’t come pick you up at the airport, though.”

You smile. “That’s ok, Laur – I should probably drop off my stuff at my own place first, anyway.”

Right as the words leave your mouth, you can picture the teasing smile making its way onto Lauren’s face. “What – you think you’re going to come over, or something?”

“No…” you mumble, biting you lip. “I just meant, in general, like, I have a lot of stuff and I’m taking that… home – of course.”

You clear your throat.

“Right,” Lauren says.

“Right…” you mumble.

She’s silent for a beat, before adding, “I guess I shouldn’t bother putting on my new lingerie then.”

_Fuck._

You bite your lip hard at the way her voice sounds more than a little suggestive. With a shaky exhale, you try to be confident when you reply, “Actually, I don’t think you should bother putting on _any_ clothes for the next couple of days – not while I’m around, anyway.”

“Really?” Lauren says. “And why is that?”

“Because…” you reply, slowly. “I’d just take them right off of you again.”

Lauren softly laughs. “And how exactly are you going to do that when you’re not planning on coming over?”

Damn it, she always talks you right into a corner.

“Well—” you start. “Maybe – I’ll just – I mean, I could always…” You sigh in frustration. “Fuck it, Laur – you win, ok? Can I come over?”

You can hear her smile. “Oh, Camz, you want to come over?” She takes a moment. “Hm… I actually already have a really hot date tonight—”

“Laur—”

“—I even bought new lingerie to wear for her. So, raincheck?”

You bite your lip. “I’m going to tie you to the damn bed if you keep teasing me like this.”

At that, Lauren falls silent and you can’t help but smirk, before adding playfully, “You’re totally imagining that right now, aren’t you?”

Lauren’s voice is a little hoarse when she says, “N-no, I mean – I, um… I wasn’t…” She coughs and your smile widens. “Anyway… I’ll call you when I get back home from my meeting with Martin, yeah?”

You smile, “Ok, baby.”

“Hm,” Lauren says, “I love it when you call me that… I’ll see you tonight, yeah?”

“I can’t wait.”

The way Lauren says “Me neither” makes your heart stutter a little bit.

Only a couple more hours…

LXIX.

You hug Ally as close to you as you can, dropping your bag on the floor of the airport arrivals hall to wrap your arms completely around your best friend.

“Hey,” she smiles, pulling away from you. “Mila, how are you? You didn’t really respond to any of my messages over Christmas so I thought maybe you needed some space, but—”

“Can we go drink coffee somewhere?” you ask her. “I’ll explain everything, I promise.”

Initially, you stall a bit, wanting to sit down somewhere first before you tell Ally about everything that happened between you and Lauren during the Christmas break. But the airport is too crowded to have a nice conversation, so you end up telling her everything in the car when she drives you back to the UCLA campus, first to drop off your luggage and then to have coffee at _The Library Café_.

You start with what happened at Jessa’s Christmas party, struggling through your sentences a little bit. Ally’s eyes narrow so hard that you almost get upset all over again as the memories flash through your mind. You can see the ache in your best friend’s eyes – not only for what happened but also for the fact that apparently you felt like you couldn’t tell her about it. Heavy guilt settles in your stomach.

“I’m sorry I just left without properly… explaining anything,” you mumble. “I’m really sorry, Ally – it was just… everything got so messed up and I felt like I couldn’t breathe anymore. It hurt so much, I couldn’t even think about it, let alone talk to any of you about it. I’m really sorry. It wasn’t until Lauren came to Miami that—”

Ally’s eyes go wide. “Wait, she came to Miami?”

You nod, biting your lip because for a moment you’re not sure if you should tell Ally about Lauren’s situation with her mother. But Ally is your _best friend_ and you have been keeping so many important things from her, already – you feel like there’s no other way. So, you tell her everything. You tell her about being home and feeling so miserable, and about your conversation with Sofi. You tell her about Lauren calling you, about everything that happened in the hospital and about New Year’s Eve. And then you tell her about the day afterwards, about the ocean and about the middle of the night and Lauren’s apology and what she told you about her father and how you felt so in love with her, how you _are_ so in love with her that you just couldn’t stop yourself from telling her.

Afterwards, Ally is silent for a moment, before breathing out, “… and all of this happened over the course of, what, like, three days?”

You blush a little at that. “I know – it’s crazy. Talk about an emotional rollercoaster.”

She smiles softly at you. “Mila…”

“What?” you ask and Ally laughs at your slightly panicked face.

Then, she says, “You’re really in love with her, aren’t you?”

You bite your lip and blush even harder. Ally grabs your hand and squeezes it tightly, eyes glinting with excitement as she shakes her head and laughs. “Unbelievable… Camila Cabello, you’re actually, incredibly – pardon my language – _fucking_ in love. Who would have thought?”

A laugh breaks free from your chest. You think about Lauren’s eyes and the way she calls you _baby_ and you fall back into the leather seat of Ally’s car, laughing, because you _are_ in love and your best friend has been onto for so long already, probably even longer than you know, and you can feel yourself finally starting to be ok with admitting to it.  

Ally’s car pulls up in front of your place. She smiles at you, “You still want to get coffee with your best friend after we take your stuff inside? Or have I been permanently replaced over Christmas break?”

You hug her close. “Ally – you could never be replaced, you idiot. Let’s go. I want to know what you’ve been up to.”

Ally grins. “If you can even stop thinking about Lauren long enough to register what I’m saying…”

You push her shoulder playfully, before stepping out of the car, feeling lighter than you have in a really long time.

LXX.

“What is going to happen now that you’re back in LA, though?”

You curl your fingers around your coffee cup, shifting a little in your chair. “What do you mean?”

Ally’s eyebrow slowly kinks up, as if it’s obvious. “Well, are you together?”

Your exhale hitches, while your gaze shifts to the surface of the table. “I mean…” you start, trying to think of a way to deflect Ally’s question. “What does _together_ even mean? Does it really matter?”

“ _What_?” Ally says. “Mila – of course it matters. How are you—”

She says something else, but your phone buzzes on the corner of the table so your attention momentarily falters as you see Lauren’s name flash across your screen. There’s a heavy tug in the center of your stomach.

Ally stares at you, before softly smiling. “Don’t mind me.”

You bite down on your lip, feeling yourself blush as you grab your phone and unlock the screen. “Sorry, Al, I’ll just be a second. She was going to let me know when she was done with talking to Martin so I could…”

You trail off when you read _Hey babe, I’m home now, so maybe we can do that thing you said about you taking my clothes off?_

You try to ignore the shiver that runs down your spine. God – she really has no shame…

Ally’s got a smug smile on her face. “Do you need to go?”

You quickly shake your head. “No – no, let’s just finish our coffee. Lauren can wait.”

Ally smiles like she doesn’t believe a word you’re saying, so to make your point you take your phone out and quickly type _still having coffee with Ally, so you can keep your clothes on – don’t want you to catch a cold._

“So, anyway,” you say to Ally, pushing your phone to the edge of the table again. “You were saying?”

Ally grins. “I was saying that you and Lo might want to have a little chat about what exactly is going on between the two of you – but by the look on your face, you may not actually need to.” She smiles and mumbles something that sounds a lot like _whipped._

“Ally—” you stutter, before running a hand through your hair. “That’s not – I’m not…”

Your phone buzzes again. You sigh, quickly grabbing it and sliding your thumb over the screen to unlock it, without properly thinking about it. You flush scarlet in less than a heartbeat. All Lauren has texted you is _too late_ – but it’s the picture attached to the message that is making your throat dry and your stomach tense. 

Your eyes catch on the line of her bare collarbone, on the lacy fabric of her black bra, on her fingers low on her hip, curled on the edge of her matching panties as she leans back against the wall, oversized denim shirt still wrapped around her shoulders as to keep up the pretense that she isn’t— that she didn’t just totally sent you—

_Fucking hell._

You lock your phone and push it deep into the pocket of your jacket, trying to shake the image from your mind, trying to stop yourself from blushing furiously. 

“Mila, you ok?” Ally says with a smile.

You swallow hard. _Damn it, Lauren._

“Yeah, just—” You run a hand through your hair. “It’s pretty hot in here, don’t you think?”

Ally grins. “God, it’s a good thing that Dinah and Mani aren’t here – they’d be having a field day with the way you’re blushing right now.”

You blush even harder. “I don’t know what you mean…”

“Sure, you don’t,” Ally laughs, “God, how are we ever even going to win another field hockey game now that _this_ is happening? Can you and Lauren even be on the same field at the same time?”

The picture that Lauren just sent you flashes in front of your mind again and you can’t help but laugh too, because if you’re being completely honest with yourself, Ally’s concern is actually completely justified. In fact, forget about winning a game. You’re not sure if you’ll ever even _play_ another game.

With her sending you pictures like that, who says you’re ever even going to make it out of Lauren’s apartment again?

LXXI.

You’re actually pretty nervous.

As the elevator shoots up to the fifth floor of Lauren’s apartment building, you run a hand through your hair, checking yourself out in the reflective doors. It’s not that you didn’t put _any_ attention to your appearance – you’re wearing your favorite pair of high wasted, light blue jeans, one of your nicer black crop tops and black ankle boots that you can actually walk in – but after that picture Lauren sent you earlier…

You bite down on your bottom lip as the elevator comes to an abrupt halt. Your chest feels a little tight when you walk up to the door of Lauren’s apartment. You take another shaky breath, the picture flashing in front of your eyes once more, and then you knock on her door.

After a few moments she opens the door – fully clothed.

“Hey,” she says.

“Hi…” you breathe out, before feeling the corners of your lips curl upwards. “Lauren, you damn tease.”

She gives you her most innocent smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You roll your eyes, muttering out a quick _of course you don’t_ before stepping up to her and pressing your mouth hotly against hers. You break away before she can even start to respond – a little bit to tease her back, but mostly because your mind is spinning with the feeling of your lips on hers again and you already need a moment to breathe. Mostly because she’s already got your pulse racing in your veins and it’s barely even been twenty seconds.

You move past her, stepping over the doorstep, before coming to an abrupt halt. The apartment is dimly lit, the curtains half closed already. There’s a string of Christmas lights that is hanging across the window, right beside the table on which—

“Oh my God, Laur…” you breathe out. There’s a wave of heavy emotion that rushes right through you as you turn to look at her.

She’s blushing slightly. “I thought you might be hungry, so I thought we could have dinner together.”

You spin around, letting out a shaky exhale as you take everything in – the wine and the candles and the soft music that is playing in the background and the delicious smells and the goddamn, fucking _roses_ that are standing on the table, next to the fancy dinner plates – and you bite your lip. Hard.

“You’re – Lauren, you’re so…” you stammer out, but you can’t even say it – you can’t even express what you’re feeling exactly, so before you can stop yourself, you cross the distance, wrap your arms around her neck and kiss her again.

She melts into your touch, pulling on your waist. Your lips part and she softly moans into your mouth as you kiss her deeper. Your heart is racing and your chest is on fire and you’re so _incredibly_ happy – it’s insane.

You break away from her, sighing harshly at all your overwhelming feelings. “God, I missed you.”

She smiles a little cocky. “It was only a week, Camz…”

You bite your lip, rolling your eyes at the way she tries to play it cool, before kissing her again, pulling harder on her hips so she stumbles into you a little bit with the softest groan at the back of her throat.

You grin against her lips at the sound. “Hm, don’t even try to pretend that you haven’t been thinking about me every single day.”

Lauren kisses you softly, before blushing again, mumbling, “What gave you that impression?”

You kink your eyebrow up, making a point of looking at everything around you. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that you’re such a ridiculous romantic…”

She smiles a little bashfully. “I’m _not_ a romantic – I just… like nice things. Good food, candles, pretty field hockey captains with gorgeous eyes and incredibly sexy—”

You kiss her, before breaking away again and shrugging your leather jacket off your shoulders, placing it on the edge of the couch. “So, where are Chris and Taylor off to?”

She grins at you teasingly, before her eyes go wide in fake shock. “Wait, you thought we were going to have dinner with just the two of us? That’s kind of awkward, Camz… My brother and sister have been waiting to see you, too, you know—”

“ _Lauren_.”

She grins. “Ok, so I may have told the little children rather forcefully to go entertain themselves outside of the apartment for a night.” 

“So…” you mumble, smiling. “We’re alone?”

Her face softens. “Yeah – we’re alone.”

You can feel it in the tension right away. Your gaze gets stuck on the heavy green of Lauren’s eyes and you can feel yourself blush harder. You can’t help but let your eyes trace over the fabric of the shirt she’s wearing, down to her tight, black jeans, can’t help but wonder if… 

“Do you want some wine?” Lauren says with a small smirk, as if she knows exactly what you’re thinking.

You nod breathlessly and you take a seat at the table, while Lauren pours you a glass of wine.

“I love you,” you breathe out suddenly and Lauren almost drops the bottle.

She flushes scarlet, mumbling something inaudible, and then she takes the seat across from you, looking more flustered and adorable than you’ve ever seen her. You can’t help but smile at her nervous state, adding, “Now that I’ve refreshed your memory of that little fact, tell me how your week has been.”

The entire dinner is amazing. The food is absolutely delicious and Lauren keeps looking at you in a way that’s making your head spin. Of course you expected that it would be nice to see her again, but you didn’t think it would be like _this_ – a constant of heated feelings in the center of your chest; nervous smiles and soft touches; the Christmas lights reflected in Lauren’s eyes while you talk and laugh together about all sorts of things.

“Oh,” she says abruptly at some point, “I didn’t even tell you yet, but there’s a chance I get to keep my scholarship.”

“What?” you exclaim. “That’s amazing! What did Martin say? What do you have to do?”

At that, her face crumples a little. “Kids.”   

You frown. “What?”

“I have to teach a two-week hockey clinic,” she says, “It’s all university-sponsored – an after school program for some of the schools in the neighborhood. Martin thought it might help with the chances of keeping my scholarship, you know, promotion for the university and all that.” She smiles, before her face shifts to slight panic again. “But it’s with _kids._ Like, small kids – six and seven year olds. And it starts the day after tomorrow already.”

You laugh. “Why are you looking like that? You’re great with kids!”

“Am I?” She looks completely uncertain.

“Are you kidding me?” Your eyes go wide. “Laur, you do know that my little sister already loves you more than she loves me, right? She wouldn’t shut up about you for the entire week.”

Lauren laughs a little nervously, “That’s not – what – I’m not… I don’t even know… I mean, _children_ , like multiple _—_ ”

You grab her hand across the table. “Baby, this is such good news. I’m sure you’ll do great.” You squeeze her fingers tightly in yours, still smiling at the fact that she seems genuinely nervous about it. “Did Martin say anything about actual practice, though? When are you going to train with us again?”

At that, the corner of Lauren’s mouth curls upwards. “You want me in that locker room again, don’t you? It’s been a while since we had some fun there…”

There’s a sharp tug in the back of your stomach. You try to play it down, by mumbling, “No, that’s not… It just – well, the team’s just not the same without you, so…”

Lauren’s smile grows wider. “Look at you, all flustered.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t stop blushing. “I’m not flustered—”

She looks down at her plate with a smile, before running her thumb over the inside of your palm, looking up at you again. “You want to know something?” She smiles. “Remember the very first day we met? On the field, when you were in the middle of practice and I made that long distance shot on goal?”

You do remember. You remember the look of shock on Dinah’s face and the hot tension that flooded through your chest right away – and then Lauren, of course, all gorgeous and athletic, staring at you from the far end of the field. You run the tip of your tongue over your bottom lip, wondering where she’s going with this. “Yeah, I remember.”

Her smile widens. “I only took that shot to impress you.”

“W-what?” you stutter.

Lauren bites down on her lip. “I’d been watching for a while, already – and of course, I’d heard things about you, and about your dad – and I… I don’t know, I wanted to show off, I guess. Make sure you noticed me.”

Your chest burns up at her worlds. For a moment, you just stare at her. “Well, it worked.”

She smiles softly, bringing your interlaced fingers up to her lips and kissing them, before breathing out. “You ready for dessert?”

You grin. “Do you even have to ask?”

You help her clear the table, but as soon as you’ve handed her the plates she sends you back to you seat to wait for her. When, she comes back, you gasp audibly. “Lauren… _damn_ , you really know the way to my heart, don’t you?”

She grins proudly and it makes you feel so good. Half of you wants to just grab her wrist and pull her into her bedroom already but the other half of you _really_ wants to dip those strawberries and pieces of banana into the chocolate fondue that Lauren puts between you on the table.

As soon as you take your first bite, you moan at the taste. “Oh my God… this is so good.”

You take another piece of banana right away.

Lauren smiles at you before dipping a strawberry into the chocolate and bringing it up to her mouth. Your throat goes dry at the way she locks her eyes right into yours when she wraps her lips around it suggestively. Her eyes fall shut as she tastes the chocolate. “Hm… it is really good.”

You don’t realize you’re staring until Lauren opens her eyes again and grins at you, kinking her eyebrow up. Your body feels a little heated, suddenly, a little tense.

She winks at you and then does it again.

_Fuck._

The air between you seems to thicken. Your eyes travel down the line of her neck, to her collarbone. She’s unbuttoned the top buttons of her shirt a while ago and you can’t help but wonder whether or not she’s actually wearing—

You dip your finger right into the fondue and then bring it to your lips, sucking the chocolate right off of it while you keep staring into Lauren’s eyes. Her mouth parts slightly and you do it again right away, purposefully dragging your finger over your bottom lip to make sure some of the chocolate stays behind.

Lauren bites her lip, shaking her head softly at the way you’re being completely obvious, but then she breathes it out, anyway, “You’ve got something on your lip…”

You grin, leaning back in your chair, not bothering to brush your finger over your lip. “Oh, really? What are you going to do about it?”

Lauren grins, before pulling harshly on your wrist. “Get over here.”

You don’t need to hear her say it twice. In less than a heartbeat, you push your chair back, cross the small distance between you and then you let yourself fall down onto Lauren’s lap, straddling her. She flushes at the bold move, even though she’s the one who basically pulled you onto her.

“So,” you mumble, “What _are_ you going to do about—”

She kisses you hotly before you can even finish your sentence, making you moan against her lips. Her hands tangle in your hair as she pulls you closer onto her, running her tongue over your bottom lip. A heavy shiver curls around your spine when you open your mouth to let her in further. You fall into her, feeling the burning tension in your body increase much faster than you’d expected.

You force yourself to slow down a little, ignoring Lauren’s soft whimper of protest when you pull back for a moment. Her eyes are glazy and she’s already panting lightly, staring up at you with a soft smile. Then, her fingers find their way up your neck and your body visibly shudders when she curls them into your hair.

It makes Lauren smile.

“I love you,” she breathes out, close to your lips.

Your eyes flutter closed. _Fuck_ – you are so not used to hearing those words come out of her mouth yet. They send an intense wave of heat through your chest. Your let your lips fall down to her neck, brushing her hair to the side and kissing the spot below her jaw, grinding your body a little harder into her, causing her to let out a throaty noise.

“Hm…” you mumble. “Let’s talk about that picture you sent me earlier today…”

You run your tongue down the curve of her neck, fingers getting caught on the collar of her shirt. She falls back further into her chair when you press your mouth to her skin a little harder. “God, baby – that feels – _fuck._ ”

Your fingers curl around a button of her shirt, popping it open, and you feel completely powerful with the way you’re on top of her and having her shiver against you.  

“I’ve been thinking about that picture all evening already, you know?” you hum against her collarbone. “I think it’s time you show me what’s under these clothes, Lauren.”

At that, she pulls back, before saying rather bluntly, “Take your top off.”

Your mouth parts. “Excuse me?”

She grins. “It’s only fair.”

You take a moment, leaning back from her. “You sure you’re ready for that?”

Her left eyebrow kinks up, “Baby, I’m so—”

You pull your top up over your head and her breath hitches in the back of her throat because you’re not wearing a bra and she was clearly not expecting _that._ You grin at the way her whole expression darkens with the fact that you’re suddenly half naked on top of her.

Her eyes are on fire and she immediately pulls harder on your hips, trying to bring you down closer to her, but you push her wrists away and get off her lap, quickly walking backwards, before she can touch you.

Lauren’s eyes widen.

“Take your shirt off, baby,” you breathe out, your voice a little hoarse. “It’s only fair.”

She smiles, before pushing her chair back as well and getting to her feet. You lean back against the kitchen counter, watching her slowly bring her hands up to her denim shirt, shadows dancing over her skin in the dimly lit apartment. She flips her hair over your shoulder and locks her eyes in yours suggestively, before starting to unbutton her shirt. Your mouth goes dry, because you’re _never_ prepared for her doing that, never ready for the heated look in her eyes, for the way she seems to know exactly how to make your entire body burn without even physically touching you. She pulls the fabric open further, before dropping her shirt to the ground. You can’t stop looking at her, already feeling the anticipation of her touch low in your stomach, making your thighs tremble lightly.

You can feel Lauren’s eyes on your skin, as she shamelessly trails her gaze over your neck and your stomach and your breasts. “Camila…”

You hook your fingers in the belt loops of her pants and pull her close to you. “Kiss me.”

She presses herself against you in a heartbeat, curling one arm around your waist and bringing the other to rest on your collarbone, pulling you into her completely as she kisses you softly.

_You’re in love with this girl._

She kisses you and it’s the only thing that echoes through your mind over and over again – you’re so damn in love with her; it’s the most captivating and intense feeling you have felt in your entire life.

You don’t know what happens exactly, but one moment you’re only lightly pressed back against the kitchen counter while Lauren kisses you long and soft and slow, the next moment, she’s hoisted you on top of it, hooking your legs around her hips rather harshly while she kisses you faster, more demanding, more desperate—

Your fingers tangle in her hair. “Lauren – fuck… I—”

Her lips fall down to your neck and your stomach clenches under her fingertips when she drags them roughly down, hooking them around the waistband of your pants, while she trails her tongue slowly down from your collarbone to your breast. You moan out and tilt your head back, when her mouth falls around your nipple – and then everything sort of begins to blur.

She drags your jeans down your legs, before bringing you down from the kitchen counter top, kissing you hotly as she pushes you in the direction of the couch. You stumble through the apartment, almost completely naked now.

Your fingers catch on Lauren’s pants. “These – off—” you husk out, voice already throaty. “I want to feel your skin.”

She pushes you back onto the couch, before unbuttoning her pants and sliding them to the ground until she’s in front of you in nothing but the new black lingerie that’s been on your mind for the entire evening already.

_Fuck_.

She falls on top of you, pushing you down into the pillows.

“I love you,” she breathes into your neck, kissing you hotly. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

_Oh my God._

You pull her closer against you until it feels like all the air inside the room presses in on the both of you, and Lauren’s fingers move between your legs, dancing over your panties, making you gasp and moan into her shoulder and then she pulls them off and you can’t think straight anymore. Her name falls from your lips and your head tilts back and you’re _hers_ and hers only and you kiss it right into her mouth over and over again, so she knows – the taste of every single thing that’s ever made you feel alive, all at the same time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> Hey lovely people,
> 
> How are you doing? What did you think? :)  
> I hope you all have a wonderful day, wherever you are in the world!
> 
> -Blake
> 
> P.S. I'm also posting on Wattpad now, so come check me out if you're over there as well :) username: Blake0Tyler


	22. 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> Hey guys,
> 
> Sorry for the wait! I had to re-write a couple of things and I've been caught up with moving to a different city and university deadlines and all such things. Anyway, enough with the excuses. Here's an extra long chapter to make up for it. :) Let me know what you think!  
> Love you all.
> 
> -Blake

LXXII.

You watch her from the sidelines of the field.

She hasn’t noticed you yet. You’ve got your own hockey bag swung over your shoulders because practice is going to start in half an hour, but Lauren’s hockey clinic happens to be on the field next to yours, so you’ve decided to take your time moving from the locker rooms over to your own field.

Her hair is all messy and wild, cheeks flushed, hockey stick clutched tightly in her hands as she grins at the twenty or so kids running around her, giving them instructions and helping them out with controlling the ball and shooting on goal.

It’s impossible to take your eyes off her. It’s been so long since you’ve seen her play; you almost forgot how absolutely captivating she looks with her focus on the game and the game only.  

The kids are a mess of course – screaming and laughing and falling over their own feet – and you can’t help but grin at the adorable way that Lauren keeps scrunching her nose whenever one of them doesn’t look where they’re going and runs right into her, or the way her eyes go wide in panic when one of the kids accidentally gets a hockey stick swung against their shin guards.

You watch as she blows on her whistle and gestures for them to go take a drink in the dugout, turning around in a circle to make sure they’ve all heard her – and then she sees you.

She blushes right away and she quickly runs a hand through her hair when you give her a small wave, trying to straighten it out. You can’t help but feel a flutter in the center of your chest at the nervous habit.

When she’s made sure that all the kids have a cup of lemonade in their hands, she jogs up to you.

“Hey,” she says, voice a little hoarse – probably from all the yelling. “What – what are you doing here?”

You smile and gesture to the other field. “We’ve got practice in half an hour.”

“Oh, right—” She smiles softly, running her hand through her hair again. “Damn, is it that late already? These kids, man… I’m exhausted. I don’t even know how I’m still standing on my feet.” She grins at you. “Even your toughest practices are a walk in the park compared to this, Cabello.”

“Oh, is that so?” you tease, before adding, playfully, “ _Jauregui_.”

Lauren grins at you, before leaning into you a little bit more and flicking her gaze up and down your jersey and shorts. “You look good. I missed seeing you like this.”

You blush a little, tugging on the hem of her UCLA field hockey jersey. “Right back at you…”

There’s a beat of uncertainty in which neither of you really seems to know whether to lean in further or not, because you’re clearly in public – on the _hockey field_ of all places – and you haven’t really established the dynamic of that yet. For a moment, you just grin at each other a little nervously, but then Lauren breaks the tension as she says, “I don’t have too much time right now, unfortunately. I have to get back to the kids. But what are you doing after practice?”

You smile, but before you can say anything, Lauren’s eyes go wide as she suddenly catches sight of something right next to you.

“Hold on – just a sec,” she blurts out “I’ve just quickly got to—” She spins around and only barely manages to grab one of the kids running past her by the back of his jersey. “Finn!”

A little boy with messy blonde hair and a bunch of freckles comes to an abrupt halt in front of you. Lauren points down at his hockey shoes, shaking her head softly. “Finn, you’ve really got to start tying your shoe laces, ok? You’re going to trip over them.”

He stares up at her, eyes big and blue. His brow furrows as he mumbles, “I can’t do it. They always untie again.”

Lauren smiles at him and you can’t help but do the same as you hear Lauren say, “Remember what we talked about this morning? If something is difficult, you can…”

“… always ask for help,” the boy answers with a toothy grin. “Can you help me, Lauren?” 

“Of course, buddy,” Lauren says. “Get over here.”

There’s a strange hot feeling in the center of your chest as you watch Lauren get on her knees in front of the boy, grabbing his untied shoe laces. Finn, all flushed and breathless from running around, leans down with his hand on Lauren’s shoulder, falling into her a little bit while his big eyes look up to stare at you.

“Who is that?” he asks, panting lightly. 

He can’t be older than seven, you think; he’s still got that careless attitude that only young children have. A slow grin spreads on Lauren’s lips.

“That’s Camila,” she says.

The boy keeps looking at you and you take a step closer, giving him a quick wave. He smiles at the gesture, steadying himself against Lauren’s shoulder, not taking his eyes off you.

“Camila…” he mumbles softly, repeating the name to himself.

You open your mouth to properly say hello to him, but before you can say anything, Lauren adds with half a smile, “She’s really pretty, don’t you think?”

You can feel your cheeks heat up. The boy gives you another long, hard look and you prepare yourself for the worst, because if having a little sister has taught you anything, it’s that kids can be ruthless when it comes to these sort of things. But then Finn nods in happy agreement, his blonde curls bouncing up and down at the movement. Lauren gives him a knowing look. 

“I think so too,” she says and you can feel yourself blushing even harder.

“Is she your sister?” the boy asks.

Lauren laughs. “No, she’s not my sister, Finn.”

Her gaze locks into yours for a moment and there’s a heavy tug at the back of your stomach. You can’t help but bite down on your lip as you watch her interacting with the little boy – smile on her face, so soft and caring.   

“Camila and I play field hockey together here at UCLA,” Lauren elaborates.

The boy’s eyes light up. “She plays hockey too?”

“Oh, yes,” Lauren answers. “See, she’s wearing the same jersey as I am. Camila is actually the best player on the entire team.”

“Laur—” you cut in, but Lauren holds up her hand in your direction before you can say anything else.

“She’s going to deny it, Finn,” she says to the little boy, grinning at him. “But she really is the best player on the team, I’m telling you – and she plays center forward, just like you want to!”

The boy’s face lights up more and more by the second. “Is Camila your friend?”

At that, Lauren’s cheeks go faintly pink. You almost miss it, because she’s got all her attention directed to the little kid in front of her, but you can tell, anyway. 

“Actually,” she says after a moment, lowering her voice and leaning into Finn, as if she’s telling him a secret. “Maybe she’s a little bit more than just my friend.”

He frowns. “I don’t understand.” Lauren gives him a look and then his eyes go wide. “Do you mean – do you mean like…”

Lauren smiles, shrugging as though it’s obvious. “Well, she is really good at field hockey _and_ she’s really pretty…”

Finn nods and then smiles as if he just solved a puzzle. “So _girlfriend_ then.” 

Your whole body tenses in a heartbeat, because _what the hell_ – since when do six year olds even know what that means? Lauren also seems a little taken aback for a second, clearly not expecting _that_ as an answer. But then she quickly gets up and ruffles his hair. “I’m not telling you anything, you little smart-ass.”

Finn’s eyes go wide in shock at the word. “You just said… you said the word a—”

“Don’t tell your mom.” Lauren grins at him, brushing some grass off his clothes. “Now, go score some goals for me, yeah? I bet you can run really fast with those perfectly tied shoes of yours.”

He grins. “Ok, Lauren.” He waves at you, before taking off at a run, and yelling after him, “Bye, Lauren’s girlfriend Camila!”

The word shoots down straight to your stomach, and your heart is racing so fast that you’re barely able to look Lauren in the eyes when she walks up to you again. You can feel the vibrations of the sudden tension to the core of your bones, but at the same time, you can’t help but smile softly, because you’re clearly not the only one who is suddenly completely flustered and uncertain.

“So…” You lock your eyes into hers, trying to play it cool, trying to pretend like your heart isn’t beating right out of your chest. “I’m your girlfriend now, huh? Is that how it is?”

Lauren blushes even harder. But then, she gives you a bold smile, steps right up to you and pulls you into her by the hem of your shirt. Her breath is hot on your skin as she whispers close to your ear, “Well, a girl can hope, can’t she?”

_Damn it._

You clench your hands together tightly, trying to gather your breath, as she pulls away from you again, taking a couple steps back and winking at you. “I gotta go. Go score some goals for me too, yeah?”

She grins at her own words, before running off in the direction of the kids again, leaving you without any room to reply.

LXXIII.

Practice is rough – worse than you expected.

You haven’t spent a single moment during Christmas break being focused on hockey, haven’t even held a hockey sticks in weeks, and it’s an understatement to say that it takes you a while to get back into the game. You work your way through it purely on muscle memory, your body remembering the drills and plays as easily as ever – but there’s an unshakable kind of tension in the pit of your stomach that you’re not really able to get rid of.

You can’t stop thinking about your dad.

You can’t stop thinking about the fact that it feels ok to be back on the field again, but also kind of foreign, also a little claustrophobic, like you’re not really sure what you’re doing anymore.

The thoughts are so overwhelming that you try to push them to the back of your mind, try to focus on the things you do like – talking to your coach again, seeing all your teammates walk onto the pitch again and _Lauren_ , only one field away from you, being completely attractive and gorgeous and wonderful and _way_ too distracting altogether. 

As soon as the other girls exit the locker room and start making their way onto the field, she takes a moment to run up to them to greet them all. You fall back, not really knowing how to position yourself.

It’s then that you realize you are not in the least prepared to see Cameron again.

She walks onto the field together with Ava and Jessa and your throat tightens completely, because you can’t believe how long you’ve gone without thinking about all of _that_. You’re not sure if Lauren has even talked to Cameron since Jessa’s party – purposefully having avoided discussing the subject with her – and now you’ve got no choice but to deal with the aftermath like this, whether you want to or not. Your throat tightens and your muscles tense and you can feel a guilty, shameful blush rising all the way from your neck up to your ears as you watch the three of them walk closer.

You try to give them a neural wave as a greeting, which Ava and Jessa both return, but Cameron shoots you the iciest glare you’ve ever gotten and she doesn’t even look in Lauren’s direction once.

_Fuck._

You don’t realize the tension is making you tremble on your feet, until Ally puts her hand on your shoulder and you suddenly snap out of it.

“Hey,” she says, “You ok?”

“Yeah,” you mutter, a little breathlessly, “I – I’m just a little nervous about practice. It’s been a while, you know.”

Ally looks at you, small frown on her forehead, seeing right through it when she says, “Maybe you can just go talk to her for a moment? Clear the air a bit?” She looks in Cameron’s direction and then says, almost as an afterthought, “At the very least, Lo should talk to her, don’t you think?”

You swallow hard.

Ally squeezes your shoulder. “I know it’s uncomfortable, Mila, but we’re still a team. All of us, we’re still supposed to be a team, so maybe you and Cameron and Lo could just try and sort all of this out, before it gets worse, yeah?”

It throws you off completely – it throws you off because you know Ally’s right, but at the same time even the thought of bringing it up in conversation with either Cameron or Lauren is making you sick to the stomach. You’re better at _not_ talking about things.

“Ok,” you mumble, taking a deep breath and trying to be brave, anyway. “Ok, yeah – I’ll just go… try and talk – to her.”

You take a shaky step in Cameron’s direction, but right when you’re about to call out her name, Coach Martin blows on his whistle and calls all of you to come together. You bite your lip hard, sudden relief flooding through your veins, as you run over to your coach, pushing it to the back of your mind as well, deciding you will try to fix everything later.

Practice is really rough.

You can’t concentrate. You feel shaky and guilty and distracted – all at once. You can’t stop thinking about your dad, can’t stop feeling Cameron’s eyes on you like daggers, can’t stop glancing over to Lauren’s field to see what she’s doing.  

Your throat burns with all of the uncertainty, with the way you still don’t know how to deal with any of _this._

Inside the walls of Lauren’s apartment it’s easy to let yourself get carried away in the way she touches you or talks to you or laughs with you, but now that you’re back on the pitch, right where everything started, it’s like you’ve been roughly shoved straight into reality. You curse yourself a little for always forgetting that you and Lauren don’t exist in some kind of untouchable bubble, no matter how hard you pretend that you do.

At some point, Ally seems to notice that you’re only working yourself up more and more. “Hey,” she says, running up to you again, “Mila, please don’t worry too much, ok? I’m sure everything will work out. Just try to focus on one thing at a time, yeah?”

You take a deep breath and then another, trying to calm down your nerves. She’s right. One thing at a time. You can handle this.

Except the next thing, of course, is Dinah.

She holds out longer than you thought she would – she just hugs you and laughs with you and yeah, _of course_ she wiggles her eyebrows at you when she catches sight of Lauren on the field across from you, but apart from that she doesn’t mention anything. She teases you a little bit about ignoring her over Christmas break, but you quickly fall into your usual routine of working your ass off during the hockey drills but making jokes and cracking up between them.

It’s all fine.

But then, Dinah shoots a ball that was meant for you right onto Lauren’s field – very, very purposefully.

You glare at her, but she puts her hand on her hip with a smug smile, challenging you, and so you can’t do anything but roll your eyes at her and run over to the other pitch to get the ball back.

Lauren is busy giving instructions on how to shoot on goal, so you try to run past the group of kids unnoticed, hoping to just quickly collect your ball and then run back again before she—

“CAMILA!”

It’s the little blonde boy. He jumps up and down and almost screams his lungs out of his chest trying to get your attention. Lauren spins around immediately.

“Hey,” she says, a little breathlessly. “What are you doing here?”

You run your hand through your hair. “Dinah shot the ball all the way over here, so…”

There’s a small smile that curls around Lauren’s lips as she follows your gaze to the ball that is lying a short distance away from her. “I’ll get it.”

She runs over and then shoots it right back at you, perfect aim. It’s nothing special – just a quick pass between teammates for convenience sake – but for some reason, a shockwave goes through your body, anyway. It’s been so long since she passed you a ball. You don’t really understand why, but it kind of makes you blush. Lauren seems to realize it, too, smiling softly at you – and then, just for the heck of it, because you want to and because you _can_ again, you shoot it back at her. 

You’re on the same team. No matter what happens, no matter the uncertainty, you’re always going to be on the same side, one way or another. It makes your heart flutter.

Lauren smiles, before jogging up to you with the ball. “How’s practice going?”

“It’s messy,” you answer truthfully.

“Yeah?” she says, a little glint of worry in her eyes. “Anything I can help with?”

You take a deep breath as everything you’ve been worrying about for the past hour rushes through your mind at once. You want to tell her that you’ve got no idea how to deal with the whole Cameron situation, that you’ve got no idea how to stop feeling so uncertain about what you and Lauren are to each other right now, that you’ve got no idea what you’re even doing on the hockey field, since it doesn’t really feel as good as it used to, doesn’t make you feel anything but stress right now—

But Lauren is busy and you’ve got to get back to your team and even though she looks at you like she genuinely wants to help you, you know that now’s not the good time.

“No,” you say, “I’ll be fine. You just focus on the kids, yeah?”

Lauren nods, before grinning at you a little smugly as she says, “I must say that you look really hot, though…”

The playfulness in her voice softens the tension in your stomach immediately.

You try to fight your smile, but you’re not able to stop yourself. “Aren’t you supposed to keep your eyes on _this_ field? With all those children doing possession drills and two versus two’s—”

She kinks her eyebrow up. “How do you know we’ve been doing possession drills and two versus two’s?”

You blush a little, trying to find a way out of it, but there is none, so eventually you just stare up at her bashfully and mumble, “Ok, maybe it _has_ been a little challenging for me to pay attention to my own practice with you running around in those damn shorts…”

Lauren grins, leaning on her hockey stick. There’s quite some space between you, but it feels like she’s right in front of you with the way she’s making your nervous. Then, to make things even worse, she lowers her voice and says, “Just so you know – it’s taking every fiber of self-control in my body not to kiss you right now.”

Her words pulse heat right through your chest. Your eyes catch on Lauren’s heavy gaze. You try to sound teasingly, but you’re not sure if you succeed when you breathe out, “Shame on you, Lauren – there are children around…”

She nods, “Yeah – and half our team is eyeing us.”

Your breath catches in your throat. “I should probably go back then.”

“Yeah, you probably should.”

You bite your lip, before blurting out, “Just so you know, I really, really want to kiss you too.”

Lauren’s mouth parts and you quickly take the ball from her, making use of her distraction, before running back to your own field, ready to get back to practice. But of course, as soon as you cross the sideline, Dinah can’t hold herself back anymore.

“That took a while…” she says, waiting for you, leaning on the fence, while the rest of your teammates are still carrying out their exercises a little further on the field.

“Dinah, it’s not like that—” you start, trying to walk past her.

Before you can even start to defend yourself, though, Dinah pretty much explodes with emotion.

“Bullshit!” she yells, almost jumping right on top of you. “You’ve been hooking up! You and Lauren have been hooking up for _weeks_ – and don’t you even dare try to deny it right now, Mila, because it’s _all over your damn face._ You talk to her for, like, two hot seconds and you come back looking like she gave you five fucking orgasms—”

“Dinah _—_ ” you exclaim, blushing furiously.

There’s no stopping her now, though. “I knew it, I knew it, I knew it,” she yells. “And you are going to confirm it right now, because I can _not_ handle another second of your lying ass, Karla Camila Cabello—”

Your eyes go wide. _Jesus._ The rest of the team is already staring in your direction and Dinah doesn’t really give off the impression that she’s going to stop talking any time soon.

“I’ve been calling this since day one!” she calls out. “And I’ve tried to mind my own business, but you little children need to get your act get together already and just admit to your feelings because it’s all over the damn hockey pitch, Mila, and everyone can feel it. So you better tell me right now that you and Lauren Jauregui have been going at it for weeks, or I’m going to—”

“Ok, _fine_ ,” you snap, grabbing her wrists harshly. “You’re right – for fuck’s sake, Dinah, stop talking already!” Her eyes widen, and you add with a hiss, “Ok, yeah, we’ve been hooking up – now keep your damn mouth shut before the entire team is going to run over here.”

She stares at you, wide-eyed and shocked, while you’re still holding onto her wrists, trying to keep her from making even more of a scene.

Then, she says, “Wait, are you serious?”

At that, you break. “ _You were joking_?”

“No, no,” she says. “I just – I can’t believe you’re actually admitting it.” In less than a second her facial expression shifts from shock to pure happiness. “ _Mila_ … Oh my God, _you’re actually in love with Lauren_!” 

“W-what,” you stammer. “ _No_ – I just said that we’ve been hooking up. That doesn’t mean – I didn’t say anything about…” You trail off. “Ok, fuck it – I’m not going to go through another round of this with you. You’re right. You’re fucking right, ok? You happy now?”

Dinah squeals and you press your hand to your forehead, sighing hard.

“All right,” Dinah says, once she’s finally found her composure again. “That settles it – we’re going out for drinks tonight.”

You already open your mouth to protest, but Dinah holds her hand up.

“Oh, no,” she says. “You’re not denying us the pleasure, Mila. We’re going out. Ally, Normani, you and I – and Lauren. That girl needs to prove to me that she’s worthy of dating my best friend’s sexy ass, all right.”

You roll your eyes, but at the same time there’s a small simmer of pride in the center of your chest that this idiot – this rude, overexcited, blunt, amazing idiot – is one of your best friends. 

“ _Harvey’s_.” Dinah says. “Ten o’clock. Bring your girlfriend. This is happening.”

You bite your lip, sighing hard, not even bothering to reject Dinah’s use of the word _girlfriend_ because you know there’s no way she’ll take it back. You sigh hard and then roll your eyes as you mutter, “Ok. Fine.”

This is happening, indeed. 

LXXIX.

You try to approach Cameron in the locker room after practice, but before you’ve even as much as greeted her, she already turns around, grabs her bag from the bench and leaves without even looking you in the eyes.

It feels like a punch to the stomach, knocking all the breath right out of you.

You try to breathe through it, though. You try to tell yourself that you’ll be fine, that maybe you just need to give her a little more time, that she’s your teammate and she used to be your friend and things will work themselves out. Maybe this is not the time for talking, yet.

You breathe through it and you smile at Ally as if you’re fine, as if know that everything is going to be all right again. It’s just a matter of time.

You try to ignore the stinging feeling inside your stomach that is telling you the complete opposite.

LXXX.

_Harvey’s_ is pretty crowded for a Monday evening.

“God, I’m nervous,” Lauren says, next to you, stalling in the doorway of the bar.

You can’t help but laugh in surprise. “What? Why?”

“Because,” Lauren mumbles. “I feel like I’m about to be executed by my own teammates.”

She looks so genuinely freaked out that you can’t help but wrap your arms around her waist for a moment, pulling her back into the shadows of the bar’s entrance. “Babe,” you whisper, pressing your lips to her cheek. “It’s just drinks. Besides, what are you even talking about – you’re already friends with the girls.”

“Right,” she mumbles, “Well, I’m not sure if that will keep them from slicing me up into a million pieces for all the shit I’ve done…”

You laugh in her neck. “You’re so dramatic.” She takes a shaky inhale, so you smile into her skin before adding softly, “I’m in love with you, ok? Just think about that.”

At that, her expression softens and she pushes your chin up with her fingers to press a kiss to your lips. “Can’t we just go back to my place and be naked in bed together all night…?”

You roll your eyes. “I’m starting to think you’re only with me for my body, Laur…”

“Baby,” Lauren says. “I’d be with you even if we would never have sex again.”

“Smooth,” you mumble. “Except we both know that you wouldn’t even last a week.”

Lauren grins smugly, before kissing you again and then whispering, genuinely. “You look really beautiful.”

It makes you smile.

Then, Lauren takes a deep breathe. “Ok – time to face the music.”

She pulls back from you and takes an uncertain step into the bar. For a moment, you want to grab her hand to interlace your fingers and walk in together, but you realize with a little bit of a shock that you’ve never actually held hands with Lauren like _that_ – especially not in public, so you decide against it. You try to ignore the small pang in the center of your chest at yet another thing that you’re uncertain about.

Thankfully, the thought fades away as soon as you catch sight of your friends. The three of them are sitting in one of the booths in the back, clearly already on their second drink, if the way they’re laughing loudly is any indication.

As soon as she catches sight of you and Lauren, Dinah stands up, trying to keep a straight face while she scolds you for being late.

“I said _Harvey’s_ at _ten_ , Mila,” she says, hugging you close, before adding with a smug smile, “But I guess I should be happy that you two bothered to put on clothes at all, so…”

You feel yourself blush right away, but for once you just smile at Dinah’s comment, taking a seat next to Normani on the bench. You watch the girls hug Lauren close and a little bit of the tension seems to fade from her face.

“So,” Normani says then. “I’d say it’s time for tequila.”

You catch sight of Lauren’s eyes. It’s Monday evening and you’ve all got hockey practice tomorrow afternoon again, but at the same time… Even Ally seems to be really up for it, so who are you to ruin the fun?

“I know I could really use a shot,” Lauren blurts out, before you can say even anything, nervous edge to her voice that makes the other girls laugh.

You bite your lip, still looking at Lauren. She softly smiles at you without anyone else noticing and you can’t help but feel a little lighter.

“Fine,” you say, giving Normani your widest grin. “Tequila it is.”        

LXXXI.

“Never have I ever…” Ally says, staring down at the table. “Uh – never have I ever…”

“Come on, Ally!” Dinah yells.

“I’m thinking—” Ally stutters.

Normani grins. “It shouldn’t be that hard for you to think of things you haven’t done…”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ally says, slightly panicked, before adding, a little rushed, “Fine – never have I ever stolen something.”

Dinah groans. “Could you pick something _lamer_? Y’all really don’t know how to play this game, do you?” She knocks her shot back anyway, before adding, with everyone’s eyes on her, “A pair of black lace panties. Worth it.”

You laugh. Your head is buzzing with the alcohol. Next to you, Lauren knocks her shot back, too, and your eyes go wide. “You’ve stolen something?”

She grins at you. “A box of colored pencils at the stationary store when I was six – my dad made me return it when he found out. Most embarrassing moment of my entire life.”

You grin and lean into her side a little bit more before pressing a quick kiss to her cheekbone. Lauren catches your jaw with her fingers and kisses you right on your lips before you can move away again. Your stomach flips at the way she does it so carelessly, right in front of the other girls.  

Dinah rolls her eyes. “Stop making us jealous, y’all. Just because all of us know now, doesn’t mean we want to see it all the damn time, all right?” She clears her throat. “All right, let me show you how this game is really done – never have I ever…” She pauses, giving you all a long, hard look before she adds with a smirk, “… been fingered right in front of other people.”

You almost choke on your own breath at the memory of Lauren’s hand down your shorts at the dinner table during the second training weekend. You bite your lip hard, before knocking your shot back, your head spinning at the abrupt intake of alcohol.

“ _Camila_ ,” Normani says, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Story time!” Dinah yells right away.

You bite your lip hard. “I’m not telling you—”

“That’s the rules, Mila,” Dinah says with a smile. “You drink. You tell.”

You shake your head. “God – I’m not nearly drunk enough for this…” Everyone is still looking at you, so before you know what you’re doing you quickly take another shot and then blurt out, “During dinner at the hotel. Second training weekend.”

There’s a bit of silence as everyone seems to process the information, before—

“ _What—_ ” Dinah snaps abruptly, switching her gaze between you and Lauren. “That’s how long this has been going on already?!”

Lauren is blushing so incredibly hard next to you, trying to keep her face straight. Normani is just laughing and Ally is looking at you with a slight frown on her face.

“Wait…” she murmurs. “Dinner – you mean when – when you and Lauren were talking to me about—” Her eyes go wide in shock. “ _Oh my God_!”

You bring your hands up to your face, trying to hide. Then you mumble, “Don’t just look at _me_ …”

At that, Lauren turns to you, expression suddenly a little cocky. The other girls are still laughing at Ally’s mortified expression, but Lauren lowers her voice, eyes locking right into yours when she says, “Please – you were basically begging me for it, Camz.”

The corner of your mouth curls upwards, the alcohol and the proximity of her face making you bolder, when you breathe out, “Remember how good I fucked you after?”

Lauren’s mouth parts at your words and her expression darkens immediately. She bites her lip, before leaning over a little more and whispering hot against your ear, “I don’t, actually. I think you’ll need to remind me later.”

There’s a sharp tug in the center of your stomach, but before you can say anything, Normani yells, “My turn!”

You turn your head a little breathlessly, trying to compose yourself.

“All right,” Normani says, “Never have I ever called someone the wrong name during sex.”

Dinah laughs loudly before knocking her drink back. She grins. “What? Ethan and Evan are really similar names.”

Normani rolls her eyes and Ally looks like she still hasn’t overcome the shock of your little revelation just now – but then, Lauren drinks as well and suddenly your chest tightens a little bit.

“Yes!” Dinah laughs, trying to get Lauren to high five her. “I’m not the only one. Spill it, Lo.”

Lauren doesn’t return her high five. She just shifts a little uncomfortably, not really looking anyone in the eyes when she breathes out, “I’m pretty sure I called Cameron ‘Camila’…”

It takes your spinning mind a moment to process her words, but then the truth of what Lauren is saying falls over you. “You – you what?”

She blushes really, really hard. “Well, I was thinking about you, so…”

_Fucking hell._

You stare at Lauren, not even sure what you’re feeling exactly. There’s a small part of you that tries very hard not to think about Lauren and Cameron, for obvious reasons. But on the other hand, you also can’t stop yourself from imagining Lauren fantasizing about you while she – while she—

“Oof…” Dinah breathes out. “This just went to a whole other level.”

It’s no longer just the alcohol that is making your head spin. You’re eyes are completely and only on Lauren. You momentarily forget all about the rest of your friends as you stammer out, “But when you slept with her – that was… that was already weeks ago, so…”

Lauren swallows hard—

—before answering the question that you didn’t dare to say out loud.

“Yeah, well—” She blushes softly. “I think it’s safe to say that I’ve been in love with you for… for way longer than you probably think.”

You feel like you’re close to fainting. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Lauren breathes out. “Camz, it was never about Cameron. You know that, right? It was always about you. Always. It just – I got freaked because I just… felt so much for you and I just couldn’t—”

You close the distance between you and kiss her hard, tasting the liquor on her tongue, ignoring your friends’ yelling. You keep kissing her until Dinah breaks you apart rather rudely, by slamming her fist on the table right in front of you, snapping you out of it.

“All right, all right,” she mumbles. “We get it – y’all love each other. No need to make the rest of us feel like throwing up all these shots we’ve been having all over the table.”

You softly stroke your fingers over Lauren’s cheek, smiling at her overwhelmed expression, before you push yourself up off the table, feeling the happiest you’ve felt all day.

Maybe you don’t really need to talk about anything anymore. Maybe you and Lauren are just fine.

“Time for another round.” You grin. “I’m buying.”

LXXXII.

There’s a limit to _not talking_ about things, though – and this is how you find out.

You can’t stop smiling when you’re standing at the bar, looking over at your friends, while you wait for the bartender to finish making your drinks. Normani is telling the other girls some sort of anecdote that has Ally staring at her with a look of completely shock on her face while Dinah and Lauren are both doubled over, laughing and occasionally fist bumping each other when either of them cuts in with a joke.

Your entire chest feels warm and fuzzy at the sight of your best friends and Lauren, laughing and talking together – no tension, no drama. When Lauren’s eyes catches on you, she softly grins and then blows you a kiss, which is so damn adorable that you almost can’t handle it. You can feel yourself flush, as you run the tip of your tongue over your bottom lip, relishing in how fucking _good_ she looks in her black jeans, white crop top and bomber jacket.

You hold her gaze with a bold smile, and you keep staring at each other, until you can hear Dinah yell _stop eye-fucking each other already_ at Lauren, which has her blushing hard and taking her eyes off yours right away. You can’t help but smile. 

“Hey,” someone says next to you. “You’re Camila Cabello, right?”

You look up, a little startled out of the moment. There’s a girl standing next to you that looks vaguely familiar, though you have no idea where you’ve seen her before.

“Oh,” you stammer, “Uh – yes.”

She extends her hand. “I’m Emma – I play field hockey for UCSB. We played against your team a couple of weeks ago.”

You take her hand, suddenly recognizing her. “Oh, yes, you play left back, right?” You grin when she nods. “You hit your stick against my shins a couple of times. Pretty hard, now that I think about it.”

Emma smiles, moving slightly closer into you, not letting go of your hand yet. “Sorry about that. I promise you I’m not always that aggressive. I can actually be really sweet as well…”

She’s standing a little too close for your liking, so you quickly step back, trying to create more space between the both of you. It’s really crowded at the bar, though, so it’s a little difficult. The bartender is still busy with making your drinks.

“So,” you say, trying to move the conversation into neutral territory. “What are you doing in LA?”

Emma gives you a wide smile. “I’m visiting some old friends from high school. They’re right over there.” She gestures to a table in the corner. “As soon as I saw you here at the bar, though, I wanted to come up to talk to you. We didn’t really get a chance to hang out after the game.”

There’s something in her voice which throws you off a little, though you don’t know what exactly.

“Oh,” you mumble, not really knowing what to say to that. “Ok – well – uh – how’s the competition going for your team?” 

She shifts close to you. With her eyes flicking down to your mouth, she says, “I think we can do better things than talk about field hockey…”

The uncertainty of not knowing what to say shifts into complete discomfort right away.

Emma’s eyes lock into yours as she says, “Although, I couldn’t help but notice that you’re a great player. Makes me wonder what else you can do with that athletic body of yours.”

Your chest tightens and you can’t help but swallow hard. You open your mouth, trying to come up with a way to tell her you’re not interested, but then you realize that you don’t really know what to say, because you and Lauren have never really had the whole discussion about—

The bartender pushes a tray with shots and cocktails in your direction.

“You want to come join me at our table?” Emma says.

You shake your head. “No – no. I’m not really… I have a…” The word gets stuck in the back of your throat, stinging and pulsing because you _don’t_ – you don’t have a girlfriend. “Well, I can’t – I’m here with my friends.”

Before she can say anything else, you grab the tray and make your way over to the table. You try to act as casual as possible, but you can feel Lauren’s eyes burning into you the very second you sit down again. Dinah and Normani quickly go for the shots, oblivious to the sudden tension. Ally searches her wallet to find some money to pay you back. You take a deep breath. You didn’t do anything wrong. There’s no reason for you to feel hot and uncomfortable, because you didn’t even do anything, and Lauren must know that too, so—

“Well, that’s nice, I guess.”

There’s something in Lauren’s voice that causes an ice cold shiver to run down to the base of your spine. You take a deep breath, feeling the sudden tension radiating right off her body into yours. You turn to look at her, trying not to feel too offended when you answer, “What?”

She stares at you hard, eyes dark and angry suddenly, all the light from before faded from her expression. She shrugs. “Nothing.”

She’s silent for a beat and can feel the heat rising in your veins while you wait for it, wait for her to snap at you, anyway.

“It’s just that—”

_There it is_.

“Well, I guess it’s nice to know that you’re _so_ in love with me…”

The alcohol makes your anger spike faster than you expected. The bite in Lauren’s voice pisses you off right away, but you try to stay calm because you don’t want to fight. You’re so _sick_ of fighting with her, so you try to keep your voice steady when you reply, “What are you trying to say, Lauren?”

Dinah’s eyes go a little wider as she suddenly realizes the shift in the atmosphere. You barely notice it, though, because Lauren scoffs and her voice is sharp when she says, “That bitch was all over you.”

Your eyes lock into hers and your voice trembles a little when you breathe out, “We were just talking. I only said about three sentences to her and I tried to tell her I wasn’t interested.”

Lauren purses her lips. “Clearly, you weren’t trying _that_ hard, by the looks of it…”

“ _Excuse me_?” you snap. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Guys—”

You ignore Normani, feeling yourself getting angrier by the second. “Lauren, I wasn’t even doing anything—” Lauren gives you a look and it explodes in your veins. “For fuck’s sake,” you snap. “Laur _– she_ came onto me. Why are you being like this? I didn’t even fucking do anything.”

She sighs hard. For a moment, her lips part and something shifts across her face and you think she’s actually going to say something, but then she averts her eyes again. “Never mind, just forget about it.”

Dinah is looking down at the table, Ally is biting her lip, looking nervously at the two of you, and Normani is just sipping away on her cocktail, a little awkwardly, trying to pretend like nothing is going on. You stare hard at your friends, but no one says anything. This is ridiculous. You feel insecure and offended, because you really weren’t even doing anything and Lauren is acting like you were stripping out of your clothes for this girl or something.

The silence stretches, and then Lauren says, “I’m just saying, if it were the other way around, you wouldn’t like it either…”

It rips right through you.

“ _If it were the other way around_?” you spat out. “Are you fucking kidding me? If it were the other way around, Lauren? Have you forgotten the fact that _you’re_ the one who had the fucking nerve to make out with someone else right in fucking front of me?”

“Camz,” Lauren breathes out, sudden shameful blush rising on her cheeks at your heavy outburst, “We talked about that, and we weren’t even together then—”

All the anger spikes right in the center of your chest and you explode in less than a second.

“Oh, and now we _are_?” you bite out. “ _Now_ you suddenly want to go and be ethical about things? What’s the fucking difference Lauren – you got to fuck me then and you still get to fuck me now, right?” Her eyes go wide, but you can’t stop yourself anymore. “ _I’m_ not the one who hooked up with Cameron. I only ever do whatever the hell is convenient for you, and now you have the fucking nerve to screw me over just for _talking_ to someone.”

White hot anger rushes through your veins and all the tension you’ve been feeling all day snaps inside your body. “Just so you know,” you bite out, “If it really were the other way around, if I were _you_ , Lauren, I would start owning up to my actions. I would stop being all passive aggressive about everything and I would make sure  you were my girlfriend already, so I wouldn’t have to fucking care about anyone else hitting on you, and so we wouldn’t even have to keep fighting over absolutely fucking _nothing_.”

Lauren’s eyes are blown wide and she swallows hard.

Your head is spinning and you feel really nauseous. You’ve been feeling insecure and stupid and nauseous and tense all day long – and the only person you want to talk to about is Lauren, but you can’t. Not like this.

Before any of your friends can say anything, you grab you jacket and you make your way out of the booth. Without bothering to look back, you walk right out of the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> How are we all doing? What are your thoughts? :)   
> Hope you liked the chapter.   
> Again, sorry for the wait. Updates may be a little slower than usual, but I'll always try my best to upload as soon as possible!   
> You're all amazing and I hope you have a fantastic day wherever you are in the world!
> 
> -Blake


	23. 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> Our children are finally starting to grow up in this chapter :)   
> Enjoy!
> 
> -Blake

LXXXIII.

She calls you seventeen times before you’ve even made it home – before you switch your phone off and her name disappears from your screen and there’s nothing but silence.

You know she wants to apologize. You know she’s freaking out. You know she’s _Lauren_ and the only way she deals with things is by either shutting herself off from you completely or by spilling over from emotion and dragging you along with her in the tide of it. You know she’s struggling and you know she’s got her reasons for it – and yet, you’re still angry. 

There’s an impossibly tight feeling in the center of your stomach that you can’t seem to get rid of as you curl yourself into your pillow, breathing through your tears, trying to make sense of what just happened.

In a way, you know you’re completely overreacting. You know you shouldn’t have burst out like that. You know you’ve got no right to still be so upset about what happened between Lauren and Cameron. You’ve got no right to use it against her when she’s already apologized for it, when she’s already shown you how sorry she really is. Not to mention the fact that you’ve also slept with someone else when things were rocky between you and Lauren. It’s not fair. You _know_ that – and yet, the way Lauren snapped at you for simply _talking_ to someone else, the constant uncertainty of what you are to each other, all of it is pushing you into different layers of jealousy and anger, no matter how much you try to fight it.

_Something needs to change._

If anything ever really was a game between you, it’s time for both of you to shift strategy, because the way things are now, neither of you are winning.

You bite your lip hard, grab your phone and switch it on again. Lauren’s apologetic text messages are a blurry mess of words as you stare at them through your tears. You take a shaky breath and then you text her, _Sorry I walked out. I’m home. Please go to sleep, baby. We’ll figure it out_.

The stinging feeling in your stomach increases when you switch your phone off again, knowing she’s just going to call you as soon as she reads your message. You know you need to talk, but not right now. Not when you don’t really know what to say yet.

You close your eyes and try to force your breathing to slow down – every inhale and every exhale the same thought. _We’ll figure it out. We’ll figure it out. We’ll figure it out._

Maybe if you think something long enough, it will become reality.

LXXXIV.

When you wake up, you feel nauseous. It’s the hangover, but it’s also everything else. You’ve got classes to prepare for and you need to review field hockey drills for today’s practice, but instead you roll right over in bed, sleep through all your classes and then, when you finally get out of bed, it’s already almost time to leave for practice, and you haven’t even eaten anything yet or taken a shower.

You stare up at your ceiling for a moment, and then you grab your phone and call your coach.

You struggle through explaining it, staying vague for the most part while desperately swallowing down the guilt in your throat as you ask him if it’s ok for you to miss practice today. You’re trembling with nerves, because you _hate_ not showing up for practice, but Coach Martin doesn’t even hesitate a single second before telling you to take your rest and to get well soon. You couldn’t be more thankful for it.

After that, you also take a moment to text back Ally, Dinah and Normani, who’ve all been trying to check up on you all day already. Lauren has called you a couple more times as well, but you know she’s right in the middle of her hockey clinic right now, so you don’t call her back. Instead, you put on your running shoes. 

The way to the beach is long and painful. Your muscles ache so hard that you can barely keep going. Your lungs are burning with every step. You’ve got so much tension in your body that you’re _this_ close to collapsing when you finally reach the board walk. But then, there’s the ocean and suddenly it feels like the mere fact that you’ve created some sort of space for yourself in your day – to come here, to run, to be alone with your thoughts – pushes you forward. The salt in the air; the sun warming your skin; the steady beat of your feet on the hardened sand near the breakers; the endorphins rushing through your veins. When you finally can’t go any further, you fall down on your back and lie with your eyes closed in the sunlight for what feels like at least an hour.

Then, you call Lauren.

She picks up on the second ring and chokes out, “Camz – _fucking hell_ – are you ok?”

Startled by the worry in her voice, your eyes shoot open immediately. “Hi – yeah, I’m – I’m fine - why—”

“Oh, God,” Lauren cuts you off before you can even finish your sentence. “I’ve been worried sick. Why aren’t you – why aren’t you at practice?”

“Laur—”

“I talked to Martin and he said you weren’t feeling well, and I tried to reach you, but you didn’t answer any of my calls and after everything that happened last night, I just—”

“ _Lauren_ , I—”

“I love you,” she says. “Camila, I love you so much.”

It hits you right in the center your chest, knocking the breath out of you so abruptly that it takes you a moment to reply. With your eyes closed you fall back onto the sand, overcome by so much emotion that you almost can’t handle it.

“Baby,” you mumble. “I love you too.”

You can hear Lauren take a sharp inhale, before slowly sighing, as both of you let the moment of silence that follows be what it is.

Then, you say, “I’m sorry I walked out on you last night.”

“It’s ok,” she says. “You had every right. I was being ridiculous. I – I’m really sorry for being so unreasonable and jealous.”

You can hear it in her voice; the slightly panicked edge, the way she breathes out her apology like she’s already fearful it won’t be enough. It rips right through you.

“Laur,” you say. “It’s ok. I – we were both – things just got a little out of hand, I guess…”    

You trail off and Lauren stays silent as well, neither of you really sure how to continue the conversation.

But then Lauren says, “Sometimes I think I’m too much like my mother.”

The sudden shift catches you a little off guard. “What do you mean?”

You can hear the shakiness of her breath, as she mumbles, “The shifts, the panic, the intensity of my emotions – I just… I get so scared sometimes because I’ll do something that is _exactly_ like something she would do – and I don’t want – Camz, I don’t want—” Her voice cracks. “Sometimes it’s like I can just _feel_ my emotions shift, you know, and I—” Her breath shifts harshly. “There’s a strong genetic component. There’s – the research data vary, but there’s a much higher chance for children of bipolar parents to develop – to develop…”

She stops talking and you swallow hard, taking in what she’s saying to you. The truth is, you’ve been thinking about this too. When you consider the way you know Lauren – shifting in and out of moods; shutting you out completely the one moment, being all romantic the very next – it does make sense. But to hear her say it, choking on her own voice, not even able to really voice her fears out loud, you can feel the pain of it all through your own body.

“Hey,” you say, “Laur – I…” You take a shaky breath. “Let’s not talk about this over the phone, ok? I want to see you. I want to see you and hold you and kiss you, ok?” You bite down on your lip. “Can I come over?”

She sighs harshly. “I can’t. I’m – we’re skyping with my mom tonight, so maybe it’s not… Tonight’s not such a good night, I think.”

You nod, even though she can’t see you. “Ok, I understand.”

She takes another heavy exhale and it stings in your stomach.

“Baby,” you mumble. “I love you so much. Like – so, so much. We’re going to talk about it, ok? We’re going to figure it out. Tomorrow? After practice?”

“Ok,” she says. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” you repeat. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she says. “I’m sorry about last night.”

A soft smile curls around your lips. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sorry too.”

She sighs before adding, still a little uncertain, “We’re good?”

Your smile slowly widens. “Yeah, we’re good. Let’s talk tomorrow.”

“Ok,” Lauren says. “Tomorrow.”

LXXXV.

When you arrive at the hockey field the next day, you take a moment to watch Lauren running around with the little kids on the field next to yours. The nerves in your chest soften almost immediately at the sight of her – hair all wrecked and messy, cheeks tinted red.

As soon as you step into the locker room, Normani walks up to you and gives you a hug.

“You ok?” she mumbles in your ear.

You nod and smile at her, hugging her close, before breaking away. “Yeah, I’m good. I just needed a day to think about some stuff, you know. I… I hate fighting with Lauren.”

Normani nods sympathetically, before adding, “I’m sure you guys will be fine. Everyone fights sometimes.” She looks at you. “Lo was really upset about everything, after you left.”

You bite your lip, feeling a rush of guilt. “Yeah, I know…” You take a deep breath. “We’re going to talk about things today.”

Normani gives you a smile. “Sounds good.” Then, she pushes your shoulder and adds with a laugh, “Just get together for real already, though. You’re both so whipped for each other – at this point it’s only a matter of terminology.”

A heavy blush works its way up your cheeks, but you can’t stop your laugh as you push Normani back against her shoulder. “Come on, let’s go to practice.”

Two and a half hours later, you make your way over to Lauren’s pitch, taking a seat in the dugout ready to watch Lauren finish her teaching session. As soon as Finn spots you, though, he drops his hockey stick and runs right up to you, completely ignoring Lauren’s attempt to tell him he has to stay on the field. When she catches sight of you, she kind of blushes, but you can only quickly wave at her, before Finn jumps right in front of you, snapping your attention away.        

“Camila!” he squeaks out, panting.

You can’t help but smile. “Hey, buddy, how are you?”

“We got to do shoot… shoot…” he stammers, trying to think of the word.

“Shoot outs?” you ask him and he beams right away.

“ _Yes_!” he exclaims. “Shoot outs – and now we’re playing a game – a real game – with two teams!”

You grin at him. “That sounds like fun.”

Before you can ask him anything else, Lauren has made her way over.

“Finn,” she says, trying to hide her smile. “You’ve got to get back on the field! You can’t just leave your team hanging like that. They need their center forward!”

Finn turns to you, pointing down at your hockey stick. “Are you going to join us?”

“Uh,” you mumble, immediately looking up at Lauren “I don’t know if I’m—”

“You can be on my team,” Finn says, pulling on your hand, “And then Lauren can be on the other team, and it’ll be like a _real game_.” He jumps up at Lauren. “Can Camila join? Please? Please?”

For a moment your eyes lock into Lauren’s and she gives you a soft smile, not taking her eyes of yours as she says, “Sure – if she thinks she can handle it.”

You can feel your blood heat up with the way she raises her eyebrows almost challengingly. You smile right back at her. “Get ready to run, Jauregui.”

Finn squeals and you let yourself be pulled onto the field.

You end up playing along for the remaining twenty minutes of the practice, battling over the ball with Lauren more than you probably should, considering this is a hockey clinic for the kids to learn something. They all seem extremely entertained by it, though, laughing any time you feint and Lauren falls for it and any time she manages to outrun you when you’re both reaching for the same ball. 

Afterwards, you watch Lauren wave the kids goodbye and blow kisses at them, while some of them come up to her to give her a quick hug, and you almost can’t handle it. When most of them have left, you walk up to her, smiling so hard that your cheeks hurt. “So – what was this thing you said about not being good with kids?”

She blushes softly at your smile, before holding out her hand to you. “Come with me?”

You interlace your fingers through hers as you let her take you to the center of the field. She pulls you down onto the ground, until you’re both lying on your backs in the middle of the pitch. You close your eyes, for a moment, simply enjoying the silence and the feeling of Lauren’s hand in yours. You’ve always been good at saying things to each other without actually using words. Still, you know you need to discuss some things.

You’re about to open your mouth, when Lauren mumbles, “Remember when we came here in the middle of the night and talked? Right after I got my concussion?”

You nod. Of course you remember.

“I was so damn in love with you already back then,” she says, turning sideways to look at your face. The green of her eyes so impossibly beautiful. “I just didn’t realize it.”

There’s a flutter in your stomach at her words. You pull her hand closer to yours, so that your intertwined fingers are resting on your stomach.

Without taking her eyes off you, Lauren breathes out, “I’m sorry I’m such a mess.”

“Laur.” Your hand falls to her cheek, fingers stroking over her jaw. “You’re not a mess.”

She bites her lip. “I _am_. You don’t need to pretend. I keep fucking things up.”

“No, baby,” you whisper. “You’re not fucking things up. It’s just – we just have to talk about some things, I think.”

She stares at you. Then, she says, “You know – I got so fucking scared when you didn’t pick up your phone after what happened in the bar. I got so scared you would leave me.”  

“I’m sorry,” you say, stroking your fingers over her cheek again, feeling the sting of her words in your stomach. “I’m really sorry about that. I shouldn’t have walked out. It just – all of it really got to me suddenly.”

She nods. “I know. I understand.”

For a moment both of you just look at each other. Then, Lauren says, “The thing is, I keep thinking I’m going to do something that will make you not want to be with me. I keep thinking I’m going to push you away – and I…” She swallows hard. “I try so hard to be _good enough_ for you, but I keep thinking that I’m not – that I’m not—”

She closes her eyes the moment the hot tears drop down from her eyes onto your fingers.

You pull her right into you. “Lauren,” you breathe in her ear. “I’m not going to leave you – I’m not, ok? I don’t want to leave you.” She shifts in your arms. “You – you are good enough. You are so much _better_ than good enough—”

“I just want to do everything right,” she gasps out into your shoulder. “I thought I was finally doing everything right, but then we got into this fight and—”

You kiss her. You push her chin up and kiss her hard, right through her tears. When you break away, Lauren’s eyes make your heart beat faster.

“You _are_ doing things right,” you say, feeling so overcome by emotion that your voice sounds sort of strangled. “You are – and… and it’s ok if we fight sometimes. It doesn’t mean I’m going to leave you, baby. You have got to believe me when I say that.”

She nods and then pushes her face a little deeper in your shoulder, not saying anything. You take a deep breath.

“Laur,” you say, then, trying to breathe past your nerves. “I’ve thought about two things. I think… I think we need to fix this thing with Cameron, it’s just – it’s just something we need to do. And, also—” You look down, your voice suddenly a little rough as you breathe out, “Maybe – maybe you should go talk to someone. About the things you said yesterday. About all those things you’re scared of.”

She looks at you, biting her lip hard as her expression shifts.

“There are so many people who will want to help you,” you breathe out. “So many people. Really. I think – I just—” You’re struggling through your words, struggling to explain where you’re coming from. “I just want you to feel ok.” 

She stares at you, swallows hard, and then she nods. “Ok.”

You’re a little startled. “Ok?”

She nods again. “Yes – I think you’re right – about Cameron. But also… yeah – maybe I should talk to someone.”

There’s a release of tension in your chest that you hadn’t even realized had been there. You pull Lauren close against you, kissing her cheeks, kissing all of your feelings into her skin. She wraps her arms around your back and strokes circles with her fingers over the fabric of your jersey.

Then, Lauren presses her face closer in your neck, mumbling something that you can’t quite catch. “What?”

Her voice is trembling when she says, “So – you’re not – I mean, you still want to be with me?”

You can’t even believe the worry in her voice.

“Yes,” you say. “Baby, of course I want to be with you—” You kiss her again. “Besides, you’re acting like this is your fault. Like you’re the only one who’s got something to apologize for, but I’ve been such an idiot about things. I’m also impulsive and messy and ridiculous sometimes. I also do things without thinking about them. I’m also sometimes scared to lose you.”

She looks up at you. “You are?”

Your throat suddenly feels a little tighter. “Yeah… I mean – sometimes I get nervous about it.” She looks at you, not saying anything, so you take a deep breath, before you look down as you mumble, “I mean – when that girl in the bar came on to me, I got… I got nervous because I didn’t really know what to say to her, cause we never really… well, we haven’t really talked about—” You don’t really want to _say_ it, so eventually you just back track and add, “I just don’t want to fight with you about silly stuff like that anymore – just because we don’t really know what we’re – what we’re…”

You trail off and Lauren pulls your hand to her mouth, kisses it softly.

“I know,” she mumbles, “Me neither.” She turns to look you in the eyes. “You don’t have a game on Saturday next week right?”

You can feel yourself frown at the sudden shift. “No, why?”

For the first time since you went to lie down on the grass, something like a smile curls around Lauren’s lips. “Just – don’t plan anything.”

You can feel your heart start to burn. “What? Why?”

There’s a slight glint in her eyes. “Just don’t. Don’t plan anything for Sunday either.”

You stare at her, still frowning. “Ok…”

Impulsively, she leans forward and kisses you on your lips. Then, she breaks away, smiling at you as she mumbles, “Just so you know, I’m not going to leave you, either.”

You immediately close the space and kiss her again, so happy to see the smile on her face. For a moment, you’re just lying next to each other, the kiss soft and sweet. Then, Lauren pulls on your hips and pulls you on top of her, deepening the kiss in less than a heartbeat.

“Laur—” you breathe out, breaking away, laughing. “You know we’re both way too sweaty for that right now…”

She kinks her eyebrow right away. “Oh, are we? What could we possibly do about that?” 

LXXXVI.

You gasp as you fall back against the wall of the locker room showers; heat and water and Lauren’s hands all over you, making your back arch and your head spin and—

_This is how you make up._

Heat and water and Lauren moaning loudly into your shoulder with every open-mouthed kiss to the column of her throat, every pull on the hair at the nape of her neck, every intentional flick of your fingers inside of her.

She’s making you tremble all over; biting kisses into your skin, her mouth sucking hard around your nipples, her fingers running over your legs, between your hips, inside of you – making you swear right into her mouth as she makes you yours, over and over again.

“Don’t stop,” you breathe out. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop—”

She doesn’t – endless strings off profanities falling from her lips as you finally come down from your high and manage to push her back against the wall, licking her right between her legs.

“Fuck, _Camila—_ ”

In a way, this is where it all began and both of you know it. Both of you feel it.

Her legs are shaking and your mind is spinning and she keeps pushing herself closer against you,  closer, closer, closer until she comes all over you and you can’t do anything but fall into her body, kissing her throat and smiling into her skin, your vision completely blurry because of the steam and because of the fact that sex with Lauren is the only thing that makes you fucking lose control, the only thing that makes you close to blacking out with its intensity.

She strokes a wet strand of hair behind your ear, eyes green and piercing and so incredibly focused on you and you only. “I’m in love with you.”

Your stomach flips hard. You brush your lips against hers before kissing her hard, kissing it back into her mouth—

—and this is how you make up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> Hi guys!
> 
> I hope you liked the chapter :) Let me know what you think! We're coming closer to the end. There's most likely going to be four more chapters after this one. I hope you're still with me haha. 
> 
> On a different note, I've been notified a couple of times already that some of my work has been taken by people who claim it as their own. I've been feeling pretty awful about this, because it kind of sucks all the joy of writing out of me and makes me feel very unmotivated. I try very hard to make my writing as good as it can be - putting many hours and a lot of myself into it. So people just taking it in mere seconds and claiming it as their own, makes me feel really awful. 
> 
> Anyway, long story short, if you find any of my work being reproduced somewhere else, please let me know. I'd really appreciate it. Thank you. :)
> 
> I love all of you so much! All your comments and your kudos mean the fucking world to me - honestly. I hope you are doing great and that you have a very lovely day wherever you are in the world!
> 
> -Blake


	24. 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: 
> 
> It's been almost a month since I updated this... I'm so sorry about that! My life is a bit of a mess at the moment, so I have been struggling a bit with finding time/motivation for writing. I've finally gotten around to finishing this chapter, though. Let me know what you think :) I hope you are all still liking it! I love you all. Enjoy!
> 
> -Blake

LXXXVII.

Taylor Jauregui is beyond excited to see you.

When Lauren texted you an hour ago to come over for movie night, you expected _her_ to open the door, but instead you’re almost crushed in Taylor’s hug as she pulls you close, rambling through fragments of sentences of which you can only make out bits like “finally” and “you two idiots” and “thought it was going to take forever”.

“Hi, Taylor,” you laugh, stepping over the doorstep.

She grins at you, before putting her hand on her hip and kinking her eyebrow up at you as she says, “So… you’re dating my sister now, huh?”

Heat shoots up to your cheeks and you can feel your eyes go wide with the panic that suddenly rushes through your chest. Sure, you haven’t seen Lauren’s siblings since before Christmas and sure, _a lot_ has happened in the meantime. But this is a pretty direct question and you still don’t really know how to—

“Hey, you.”

Your gaze shifts over Taylor’s shoulder to Lauren, walking over to you. Before you can even begin to answer the question, Lauren’s already softly pulling you in by your shirt, pressing a quick kiss to your mouth.

Taylor grimaces, looking away and mumbling, “I guess that answers my question…”

You’re still blushing, but Lauren just pushes Taylor’s shoulder, before walking over to the kitchen. “You want anything to drink, Camz? Soda?”

You’re about to answer, but again, your attention is snatched away, this time by Chris walking out of his room. You can feel your stomach clench a little, because you’re not sure how much Lauren has told her siblings about everything that went down between you. And if being under Chris’s scrutiny was a little too uncomfortable before, you really don’t know where you’re standing now…

As soon as he catches sight of you, Chris gives you a wide smile, though. “Hi, Camila.”

Before you know what is happening, he wraps his arms around your shoulders and pulls you close.

_Ok, then._

Clearly things are not as bad as you were expecting.

“Hi,” you say, smiling to cover up your surprise. “How are you?”

“I’m good.” He gives you another smile. “It’s good to see you. I’ve wanted to thank you for helping out when Lo was with you in Miami. It really means a lot.”

Any tension that was still in your body softens at how genuine he sounds. “Of course, Chris. You’re so welcome. How’s your mother doing now?”

There’s half a second in which the moment strains and you don’t miss the glance Chris throws in the direction of his sisters – Taylor frowning harshly and Lauren staring down at the kitchen counter – but then he just says, “She’s all right. Thanks for asking.”

Something about the way he shrugs it off settles uncomfortably in your stomach, but you don’t really have time to pay attention to it, because Lauren’s already back in front of you, handing you a can of soda and pulling you onto the couch. 

“So,” she says. “Are you here for my siblings or…?”

You grin at her. “Of course I am. What did you think, Lauren? You’re clearly my least favorite Jauregui.”

Lauren rolls her eyes. “Guess I’ll leave you three to it then and go to my room to Skype with Sofi instead.”

You brush your fingers over Lauren’s jaw, laughing softly. “You know, if you play nice, I guess we can let you hang out with us.”

Lauren scoffs, glancing over at Chris and Taylor. “As if I’d even want to hang out with you. My field hockey captain, my nerdy brother and my tiny, baby sister…”

Taylor promptly slams a pillow against Lauren’s head from the other couch to which Lauren yells, “Hey! I’m still recovering from a concussion!”

“Exactly,” Taylor grins. “I thought I’d try and knock another one into you before you go completely back to your old self.”

Between Lauren jumping right on top of Taylor and Chris grinning at you from the kitchen, you catch yourself thinking that you wouldn’t really want to be anywhere else right now.

It’s a good thought. It’s a really good thought.  

LXXXVIII.

After twenty minutes of browsing movies, the four of you finally decide on watching _Inception_ , even though everyone except for Taylor has seen already it. Chris is crazy about the action, though, and Lauren will never say no to a crazy complicated plot-driven movie – and to be honest, you don’t really mind three hours of watching Marion Cotillard, so it’s all fine by you. When you inform Lauren of this with a teasing smile, she rolls her eyes and mumbles something incomprehensible, slight tint of jealousy in her voice, so you laugh and quickly push yourself closer to her on the couch, kissing her all over her face until she finally gives in and captures your mouth with her own. It only lasts for about three seconds before Chris coughs loudly and Taylor says _gross_ – but your heart stutters for a moment and you couldn’t care less about anyone else.

Instead of watching Marion Cotillard for three hours, the girl right next to you turns out to be distraction enough. Some part of you still can’t really believe that you’re sitting here, right next to each other, when months ago you could barely even be on the same hockey pitch as Lauren. Months ago you could not feel anything but frustration for her talent and her ambition and her _goddamn_ eyes, making your mind spin with every single glance in your direction – and now you’re here. On her couch. In her apartment. Half curled into her shoulder as you keep pressing sticky popcorn kisses right over her jaw instead of watching the movie. You can’t believe her fingers are absentmindedly stroking patterns into the palm of your hand. Can’t believe the adorable furrow in her brow as she watches the screen intently, trying to keep up with the narrative developments. Can’t believe your heart doesn’t give out when she brushes her lips against your skin at some point and whispers something that sounds a lot like _I love you_ into your neck.

When the movie finally ends, Chris stumbles to his room in some sort of daze, mumbling something about his mind being blown _again_. Taylor has already fallen asleep somewhere during the last dream level. With a warm kind of burning in the center of your chest, you watch as Lauren absentmindedly covers her with a blanket, careful not to wake her, before clearing the table, dimming the lights and locking the door.

“What?” she mumbles softly when she turns back and finally catches you looking.

You bite your lip, not sure how to express your thoughts. “You’re just so…” you start. “It’s just that – you’re such a good person.”

Lauren looks slightly taken aback and you feel your cheeks flush with the bluntness of the statement. But at the same time—

“You take such good care of everybody,” you mumble, gaze shifting down to your fumbling hands, as you try not to let your smile shake with the honesty in your words. “Everything has been so difficult with your mother and with hockey and with everything else… and still you’re so… I don’t know – I just… You don’t even realize how much of a difference you’re making, how much you’re doing for everyone, how much we all love you for it. How much I… I do.”

Lauren blushes, running a quick hand through her hair as she mutters, “It’s just some quick cleaning, Camz. It’s not much of an effort really.”

“I wasn’t just talking about right now.”

Lauren’s blush deepens. “I know,” she mumbles, struggling to take the compliment. “I – uh – thank you. I love you too.”

You can feel your smile curl wider as you get off the couch and walk up to her, wrapping your arms around her waist, so you can lean into her. The way your bodies fold into each other so easily is still something that surprises you.

“So, when do we go to your room?”

At that, some of Lauren’s confidence reaches her smile again. She kinks her eyebrow slightly. Her mouth is hot against your ear as she leans in and says, “I didn’t realize I’d invited you to stay the night.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes, instead breaking away from her to create some space between you, before curling your fingers around the top buttons of your shirt, effectively dragging Lauren’s gaze down. “Hm…” you breathe out, as you start popping them open. “Maybe I can persuade you?”

The second the material from your new bra becomes visible, you can see Lauren’s gaze darken as she bites her lip, trying to keep it cool, but clearly struggling a little bit. You run the tip of your tongue over your bottom lip and pull your shirt open wider.

It only takes another second. With a quick pull on your wrist, she jerks you forward, right in the direction of her room – giving you exactly what you want.

LXXXIX.

“Laur, can I ask you something?”

She is lying half on top of you, face in the crook of your neck, arm draped over your naked body. With your fingers stroking mindless circles over the ridges of her spine, you brush the question against her temple, soft and quiet.

“Hm?” Lauren hums in response.

You take a breath. “Is everything really ok with your mother? You all seemed a little tense when I asked about it before…”

Lauren is silent for a moment. Then, she says, “We kind of got into an argument about it earlier – Chris and Taylor and I.” She shifts a little against you. “They are angry with me because I won’t let them go to Miami.”

You pull her a little closer. “Why won’t you let them go?”

The muscles between Lauren’s shoulder blades tense for a second. She buries her face a little more into your neck, as though to hide her expression from you. You barely hear her when she says, “Money.”

It’s like some of the tension in her body floods right into yours, because you know how frustrated and defensive Lauren can get about these things. You try to pick your next words carefully. “There’s not enough money for Chris and Taylor to visit?”

Lauren kind of nods, short and quick.

You stay silent for a moment.

Then, she says, “Plane tickets are fucking expensive on short notice and I haven’t been able to work a lot with the concussion and it’s all just—” Her voice tenses. “It’s just not possible – and I tried to explain it, but they’re still mad and they’re angry that I _did_ get to go with Christmas and maybe they’re right, maybe that was selfish, but it’s just so fucking—”

“Hey…” You brush your fingers through her hair, because you can feel her getting worked up about it. “That wasn’t selfish, ok? You don’t need to feel guilty about that. Your mother was in a critical condition. Chris and Taylor know that.”

Lauren stays silent. Nothing but heavy sighs between you.

“I think they just miss her,” you say, then. “I think you all miss her.”

You can feel Lauren’s fingers tightening on your hip bone. Her voice is shaky when she breathes out, “I don’t know what to do.”

You swallow hard, nodding slowly. “I know, baby.” Lauren exhales slowly as you press your lips against her forehead, kissing her. “We can figure something out, ok? I’ll think about it. Maybe I can help.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I _want_ to,” you say, before Lauren can even start. You bring her chin up with your fingers, making sure her eyes are on you as you say. “I want to help, Laur. I want to be there for you. Figure things out together, ok? That’s the whole point of being in a rela—”

You stop talking abruptly. The heat of your blush is quick like wildfire. For a second, Lauren’s eyes go wide. Then, she smirks kind of smugly.

“A what?”

You bite your lip, feeling your pulse quicken. “Nothing…”

Lauren’s smile curls wider. “Really? Because I’m pretty sure you just referred to us as—”

You kiss her before she can say it, pulling on her hips, ignoring the short gasp of protest as you press your mouth roughly against hers. For half a moment, Lauren resists, but then her lips open against yours as she falls into your kiss and shifts against you, angling her hips in a way that causes an abrupt shiver to run down the length of your spine. You head falls back into the pillow with a throaty moan as Lauren’s fingers ghost low over your stomach, and Lauren just laughs and mumbles _be quiet_ in your ear before kissing down your neck very purposefully, knowing damn well how fucking difficult it is to be quiet when she’s doing that.

Before she can tease you any further, you hook your legs around hers and abruptly shift your weight, throwing Lauren back onto the mattress. Straddling her, you grin at the expression on her face, before pinning her wrists above her head and grinding your hips down at the same time.

Lauren moans, and you can’t help but smile with satisfaction as you lean forward and breathe out, “Be quiet, Laur…”

She’s nothing but heat under your fingertips. Nothing but gasps and bitten-back moans, and soon your heart is racing faster than your thoughts.

XC.

“This is about fucking time.”

The next part of figuring things out, unfortunately, is talking to Cameron. It’s the most obvious thing to do, and yet, it almost takes you and Lauren another week to finally gather the courage to go talk to her.

“You know,” Cameron adds, sitting across from you in _The Library Café_ on Thursday night. “I’m not stupid.”

Lauren stares down at her hands, fingers playing nervously with her untouched cup of coffee, not saying anything. You shift a little in your chair, feeling nervous and uncomfortable and way out of your comfort zone.

“Cameron—” you start, but she cuts you off.

“You two are fucking idiots, you know. Seriously. You must have realized that none of us bought into your whole trying-to-keep-it-a-secret-thing for even a second, right?”

You can feel your cheeks heat up abruptly and Lauren’s eyes go slightly wide. At that, something of a smile curls around Cameron’s lips, quite unexpectedly. “I mean… We’ve all had to struggle through your sexual tension for months. So, this is long overdue, really. It’s about time you finally got around to admitting that something’s going on. Not to mention, own up to it.”

Lauren blushes hard. “Yes, about that…” she says, voice raspy and slightly wavering. “I – I really screwed up. I’m sorry about that. I’ve done a couple of really insensitive things and none of it was really fair, so – um – I guess I owe you an apology.”

Cameron runs a hand through her hair, exhale heavy. “Yeah, you do.” Her gaze locks into Lauren’s for a moment and you feel something sharp tug in the center of your chest. But then, Cameron sort of shrugs. “I guess it’s ok, though. There’s no point in dragging it out. As I said, I’m not an idiot. I knew what was going on.”

Lauren takes a nervous breath. “Still, I’m sorry.”

Cameron nods. “Yeah – well – stuff like that happens. I mean, I’ve also been a little difficult about it. Unnecessarily difficult.”

“Me too,” you mumble, flashes of all the stress and chaos and tension of the last months rushing back through your stomach.  

The air between the three of you tenses for a moment. You bite your lip, clenching your hands together, not really sure what to do now—

Cameron laughs. “All right,” she says, “Let’s just get it out of the way then. Forget about it. As necessary those apologies were, I think it’s time we start acting a little bit more like teammates again, instead of a nervous pair of parents in a café that are trying to have a serious conversation with their daughter.” 

A laugh escapes you. You can’t help it. When Lauren, clearly relieved, says “Let’s move this to a bar, then” and Cameron agrees with a grin, you realize that the worst part of it is already over.

Awkward and painful, but not as bad as it could have been. Better than you’d expected, really. 

XCI.

“—but have you _seen_ Alex Pettyfer in _Magic Mike_ – I’m putting it on—”

“—we’ve already watched that movie a million times, Dinah – at least _Pitch Perfect_ has some sort of plot—”

“—do I look like I care – Mani, I’m telling you, it’s so – _oh look, they’ve already got their pants off_ —”

“—guys, do you mind – I’m trying to breathe over here—”

“—who wants some cupcakes – _oh, no_ – what happened to the frosting—”

You’re on Normani’s couch.

Correction – you’re _all_ on Normani’s couch, sore and grumpy from three hours of field hockey practice, wrapped up in a million blankets and pillows, but you are the only one who is slowly being squeezed to death between a fighting Dinah and Normani. They are forcefully battling for the TV remote while Ally is frantically trying to get your attention, looking like she’s seconds away from having a panic attack because apparently someone already ate all the frosting.  

If you don’t die from suffocation first, you’re probably going to kill these ridiculous people that call themselves your friends at some point this night.

Dinah finally manages to snatch the remote out of Normani’s hands and she jumps up immediately, trying to break free before Normani can go after her. With a shriek she runs towards the door, yanking it open harshly, only to crash—

—right into Lauren.

You try to ignore the stupid flutter in the center of your chest, blaming it on the sudden rush of oxygen that reaches your lungs now that Dinah’s not right on top of you anymore. It’s nearly impossible to stop the smile that curls around your lips at the sight of her, though. God – you’re such an idiot.

“Oh, hey,” Dinah says, pulling Lauren inside. “Right on time to provide the definitive vote for _Magic Mike_ over _Pitch Perfect_.”

“Hm,” Lauren says, throwing her jacket off. “Definitive vote? Let me think. A bunch of shirtless guys pretending they can dance their way through the lack of plot. Or a classic Anna Kendrick movie with some of the best one-liners in modern cinema, not to mention some nice, subtle gay undertones… such a hard choice…”

Dinah scoffs, before throwing the remote back at Normani, almost hitting her in the head. “I don’t know why I’m friends with you losers.”

Normani blows Dinah a kiss, happily switching back to _Pitch Perfect_ , while Dinah drops down on the floor in front of the TV, frowning. Ally is humming fondly again, clearly having found enough ingredients in Normani’s kitchen to make some more frosting, and then Lauren’s eyes catch yours and she smiles.

It makes you fall a little deeper into the couch, as you try to hide your blush from her, while she slides right into the spot next to you.

“Hey, baby,” she says, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

Before she can completely pull back, you bring your hand to her jaw and close to space, kissing her again. “Hm… I missed you,” you mumble against her lips, leaning back before the other girls can call you out on being so sappy. “How was your first session?”

Lauren shrugs. “It was ok, I guess. I don’t know.”

She doesn’t give you any more details, so you look at her until she finally adds, “She’s called Diana. We mostly just talked about the situation with my mom. She took some notes. Asked some questions. You know, typical psychology stuff.”

You grab her hand. “You feel ok about it, though?”

She takes a moment, and then she says, a little softer than before, “Yes, it was good. She’s cool. I was pretty nervous, but it didn’t feel so weird to talk to her. And she’s pretty funny, too.”

Your smile widens. “Laur, that’s so good to hear. I’m so proud of you for going.”

Lauren shrugs again, as if it doesn’t really matter, but you can see the slight tint of red on her cheekbones and you quickly press a kiss to it, before mumbling, “Just take the compliment, babe. I _am_ proud. I know how hard it is for you to open up, especially to people you don’t know.”

The shy smile she gives you in response is the nicest thing.

Before you can ask any more questions about her meeting with the student psychologist, Ally reappears from the kitchen with the greatest batch of cupcakes you have ever seen. Soon, you’re all curled up on the couch or on the floor, eating cupcakes and watching the movie. Normani is humming along with every song, bumping her shoulder against Dinah’s until she joins in with half a grumpy smile that quickly turns into a full smile as soon as it turns out she’s actually the only one who knows all the words. At some point, Lauren casually wraps her arm around your shoulder, like it’s the easiest thing, and Ally smiles at the way you blush because of it.

With your feet up on the table, and your fingers absentmindedly folding around Lauren’s, you can’t help but feel a sudden rush of affection for your friends. 

Maybe you won’t kill them just yet.   

XCII.

“Camz,” Lauren says, later that night. “You’re still free this weekend right? You don’t have a game?”

There’s a slightly nervous edge to her voice and for a second you contemplate pretending that you’ve planned something else, just to mess with her. But when you catch Lauren’s eyes, all you’re able to say is, “I’m still free, baby.”

She grins. “Good.” 

“You’re going to tell me what you’re planning?” you mumble.

Lauren just shakes her head, proud glint in her eyes. “Nope.”

You roll your eyes. “So I’m expected to cancel everything out for two days without even knowing if it’s going to be worth it?”

Lauren’s smile turns a little smug. “Oh, it will be worth it, all right…”

Something in your stomach flips hard. You squeeze Lauren’s hand a little tighter. You want to tell her _I’m so in love with you that it drives me absolutely crazy_ but you’re still in Normani’s apartment, and you know the girls will tease you forever for saying something like that, so eventually you just settle on, “You know you don’t need to do anything special, right? I always have fun with you, no matter what we’re doing.”

Lauren brushes her lips over your cheekbone, green eyes glinting when she says, “I know. Hanging out with you is always special, though, so…”

You press your face into her neck to hide your smile. “Smooth, Lauren…”

She laughs. “I can’t wait until it’s Saturday.”

To be honest, you can’t either.

XCIII.

Be ready at five, is what she said, and so you’re ready at five.

You’re still wiping the sleep out of your eyes, while you’re sitting on the curb, waiting for her to come pick you up. You yawn long and slowly, unable to stop yourself from cursing Lauren a little bit for telling you to be ready at this ungodly hour, because it’s fucking five _a.m._ – and you can’t figure out for the life of you why you would need to be ready for a date by _five a.m._

But then Lauren’s car pulls up around the corner and there’s a sharp tug in the center of your stomach, because it’s Saturday and she’s going to take you out – _for real_ whatever the hell that even means – and you don’t really care that it’s early in the morning, because it’s Lauren and you’re not about to complain.

She pulls up right in front of you and then gets out of the car to come greet you. She’s looking so damn cute – dark jeans, leather jacket, flannel shirt and messy just-out-of-bed hair – and you suddenly feel yourself waking up, especially when Lauren walks right up to you, cups your face between her hands and kisses you softly, before even saying anything.

When she pulls back, she blushes a little. “Good morning, baby.”   

You grin teasingly at her. “So…” you mumble. “This date hasn’t even started and you’re already making moves on me, huh? Pretty bold of you, Jauregui…”

Lauren smiles at you, blushing a little harder. “You look so cute – I just couldn’t resist. I love it when you’re all sleepy like this.”

You immediately have to yawn again. “Of course I’m sleepy. Who comes up with the idea to start a date at five a.m., anyway?”

Lauren chuckles and you let yourself fall into her body a little more, pushing your face in the crook of her neck and inhaling deeply. She smiles against your cheek. “You still got no idea what we’re going to do today, do you?”

“Sleep, I hope,” you mumble and Lauren laughs.

“Let me take your bag,” she says, taking it from your shoulder and putting it in the trunk of her car, before holding the passenger seat open for you. “After you.”

You quickly kiss her cheek and then sit down, waiting for Lauren to take the driver’s seat. After starting the engine, she hands you her phone. You take it from her, frowning a little. “Do you need me to look up directions or something?”

Lauren grins. “No, baby.” Her smile widens a little more. “You can pick the music, though. We’re going to need a pretty long playlist.”

Your heart immediately quickens, sudden excitement rushing through your veins. “We’re going on a road trip?” you say, eyes going wide as you catch on. “I can pick the music? We’re going on a road trip and you’re letting me pick the music?”

Lauren bites her lip, not taking her eyes off you when she says, “Yes, and yes.”

You grab her hand. “Really? Where are we going? What kind of music should I pick?”

Lauren brings your fingers up to her lips, kissing your knuckles softly, before saying with the widest smile and the brightest glint in her eyes, “How does San Francisco sound to you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> So, I know this chapter was mostly a set-up for the next. I hope you still liked it, though! Only three more chapters after this one. Let me know what you think in the comments. Thank you for reading, as always! You all make me happy. Have a good day wherever you are in the world and take good care of yourselves.
> 
> -Blake


	25. 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> This is the stuff you’ve been waiting for. Somewhere underneath my sarcasm and pretentiousness and general struggle with life at the moment, there’s a romantic soul and this is its product. :) Enjoy. 
> 
> Side note: I’ve never actually been to San Francisco, so for those of you who have… blame Google for any inaccuracies. 
> 
> As always, let me know your thoughts!  
> -Blake

XCIV.

“… and then Susannah Jensen got angry with me and slammed her stick against my arm and broke my wrist.”

“Same thing happened to me when I was eleven. Well, not Susannah Jensen, of course, but I got a broken wrist because someone slammed their stick against it. I couldn’t play for six weeks.”

“In sophomore year I strained my ankle so bad that I had to walk with crutches for two months.”

“At my very first game I took a ball to the jaw and lost all my teeth.”

You stare at Lauren in shock.

She shrugs from behind the steering wheel, before adding with half a grin, “Ok, maybe not all of them… There was blood everywhere, though. Dripping from my mouth guard. All over my jersey. Chris was watching from the sidelines and he couldn’t stop puking.”

You take a deep breath, trying to shake the image from your vision as you lean back into the passenger’s seat. “Ok, well, how about this – you know that small scar on the inside of my hip?”

Lauren smirks. “Yeah, I’d say I’m pretty familiar with it.”

You roll your eyes, fighting your smile and blush at the same time. “Shut up…”

Lauren’s smile curls even wider. “You know, I’d say _make me_ but that would be very cliché and very dangerous, so I guess I won’t.”

With a laugh, you sink even further into the passenger’s seat, putting your legs up on the dashboard and shifting sideways so you can look at her. Lauren smiles at your movement and blows you a quick kiss that shoots straight to the center of your stomach. _God._ This girl.

“Do you want to know how I got it or not?”

“Let me guess,” Lauren says. “Someone on the other team hit their hockey stick against your hip because you were getting too close to the goal.”

You grin. “Nope, though that happened on multiple occasions as well.”

Lauren’s kinks her eyebrow up. “You weren’t quick enough to dodge a ball coming your way?”

You shake your head with a grin. “Field hockey camp when I was fourteen. I was trying to impress Mia Anderson by climbing on top of the goal and then it collapsed right on top of me.”

“ _What_?”

You bite back your smile at the look on her face. “It was all good. She kissed me afterwards, so I guess it was worth it.”

Lauren scoffs and rolls her eyes. “I thought we were talking field hockey related injuries, not _making out_ with your teammates on top of a goal post.”

“We didn’t make out on top of the goal. We kissed in front of it.” You laugh. “And she wasn’t my teammate. She was on one of the opposing teams.”

Lauren makes a sound. “Of course she was.”

Her cheeks are slightly tinted red, and you grin at the way she’s trying to shrug it off as unimportant. You can’t help but feel your chest swell with something hot and lovely, as you mumble teasingly, “What, Laur? Does that make you jealous or something?”

“No.” It’s too quick, and she knows it. She bites her lip, keeping her eyes on the road. “Was she any good?”

You can’t resist. “At kissing?”

Lauren groans. “At hockey, Camz.”

“I beat her the next day with an 8-2 score and I told her goodbye with nothing more than a handshake.”

At that, Lauren’s mouth curls into a small, slightly proud smile, as she mumbles, “That’s my girl.”

The words curl right around the base of your spine. You lean towards her, smiling so hard that your cheeks hurt because of it. “I’m your girl?”

“Yes.”

Her voice is soft and shy, and she seems to realize it at the same time you do, because she quickly adds, with much more bravado than necessary, “Mia Anderson’s got nothing on me.”

You laugh and press your mouth to her cheek in a quick kiss. “Right. Who could compete with a girl who bothered the fuck out of me for weeks, before harassing me in a hotel swimming pool and banging me in the locker room showers with no sense of shame whatsoever…”

Lauren chuckles. “You mean, who could compete with a girl who impressed you with her long distance shots on goal and brought you along to look at the stars and took you on a date that wasn’t a date but totally _was –_ to the ocean, I might add, which is your favorite thing in the whole world.” She grins. “Besides, she didn’t _bang_ you. She _made love_ to you in the locker room showers with no sense of shame whatsoever.”

You laugh out loud because that is just ridiculous and she knows it. “You’re impossible.”

“Well, it seems you have a thing for it.” Lauren grins. “Let’s not forget that you were the one who basically jumped me in those showers, Camz.”

You swallow hard at the memory. “Only because you were being insufferable and naked.”

She smirks at you. “How you like me best.”

You laugh and shake your head at her, biting your lip at the way she’s smiling back at you, eyes bright and green in the early morning light. The day has barely even begun but your stomach has been flipping since the moment you stepped into the car. It’s not even 8 yet, but you’re wide awake with excitement. Lauren has approved of your Spotify playlist as well as your selection of breakfast take-away which you bought the two of you at a small diner just off the road. When she pulls over, you drag her out of the car and on top of the hood, so that you can eat the pancakes and strawberries sitting in the early sunlight. You kiss her between bites, both your mouths sticky from the fruit and the sugar and the syrup.

“I can’t believe we’re going to San Francisco,” you mumble against Lauren’s skin, breathing in her scent. “You little romantic idiot.” She scoffs and shrugs but looks entirely too pleased with herself at the same time, and you can’t stop your damn smile. “Where are we staying?”

At that, Lauren’s face falls for a second. “Oh, yeah – about that… I really wanted to book a hotel, but with the money and stuff, it just didn’t – well, I couldn’t really—” She looks down and swallows hard, all of a sudden embarrassed. There’s a sharp pang in the center of your chest at the sight of her tense expression. “Anyway,” she says, avoiding your eyes, “I asked around and we can stay in Ally’s cousin’s apartment because she’s on holiday, and apparently it’s a really nice place, and the neighborhood is supposed to be pretty cool, but yeah… It’s not – I mean, I hope you’re not too—”

You kiss her before she can say the word _disappointed_ , hand on her jaw, pulling her as close as you can, desperate to kiss the insecurity right out of her. When you pull back, you give her your widest smile, brushing your fingers over her skin.

“You’re perfect,” you whisper. “That is absolutely perfect, Laur.” Her expression softens a little and you kiss her again, before breathing against her lips, “I feel _so_ happy right now. I could sleep anywhere with you. Honestly, I would sleep in this car with you for all of eternity if we had to.”

At that, the corner of Lauren’s mouth curls upwards again. “For all of eternity?”

_Oh._

You can feel yourself blush as you stutter out, “Well, I didn’t really – I mean, um, it’s a pretty nice car.”

Lauren nudges her nose against yours, grinning. “You said _all of eternity_.”

You roll your eyes and pull away from her, but before you can move back completely, Lauren’s fingers curl in the collar of your flannel shirt, making your body shift even closer to her than before. She kisses you hard, angling her head to deepen it almost immediately. It pulses heat right through your veins and you almost lose control when you let yourself fall forward to hold her tighter, kiss her deeper, quickly pushing past inhibition with the way she keeps moving against you.

She pulls away and you’re so breathless that Lauren gives you an extremely smug smile. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure there are ways we could make it work in this car…”

Her words shoot right down to the apex of your legs. You try to ignore the way your skin suddenly feels way too hot under your clothes, but you can’t really help yourself. Unable to hold back, you push Lauren backwards, urging her to move further upward on the hood, before swinging your leg right over hers and climbing into her lap. You smirk at the way her gaze suddenly darkens as she glances around her self-consciously. The parking lot around you is completely empty.

“It’s barely 8 in the morning, Lauren…” you mumble, kissing her hotly and teasingly. “Don’t we have a road trip to make?”

Her fingers dig a little harder in your sides when you roll your hips down. The smile she gives you makes your thighs clench. It sounds more than a little cocky when she says, “Isn’t this supposed to be part of a road trip?”

Now it’s definitely no longer just the sun that is heating up your body. With steady fingers and a bold smile, you pop the button of her jeans open, relishing in the way her eyes go wide when you slowly drag the zipper down.

“Camz—”

Before she can say anything else, you slide off the car, getting back to your feet, so that you’re standing between Lauren’s legs. You ignore her confused look and heavy whine of protest, steadying her with nothing more than the press of your hands on her thighs and a raised eyebrow. She stops trying to pull you back the second she catches sight of your face, her chest already heaving up and down in breaths that are slowly becoming more uneven. 

You smirk at the sudden _neediness_ in her eyes. “You’re lucky I’ve always wanted to have a girl on her back on the hood of a car, Lauren.”

With the short gasp that she lets out, you push your fingers under the waistband of her jeans and drag them down. The sight of her spread out like this in front of you makes your heart stutter, but you can’t help but add jokingly, “Time for a proper breakfast…”

Lauren’s laugh turns into a strangled moan the second you lower yourself between her legs and put your mouth on her.

XCV.

The apartment is amazing, of course.

As soon as you step over the doorstep, you make a mental note to thank Ally for being friends with you because… _wow_. It’s a small flat, located in the Mission Distract all the way at the top of a building that has no elevator, but it’s is spacious and light, with wide windows and a very nice dark wooden floor. There isn’t a lot of furniture and the kitchen is looking a little old, but there are all sorts of plants on the window sills and cool art posters on the walls that have Lauren ecstatically rambling to you about in a matter of seconds – and your heart lights up with all of it.

You take a moment to settle in, dragging your bags from Lauren’s car up to the apartment and admiring the view, but then, you pull Lauren with you into the bedroom, dropping down onto the queen sized bed and wrapping yourself around her body completely, suddenly overcome by exhaustion. For a moment you are tempted to give in to the urge to close your eyes and fall asleep, but then Lauren brushes her fingers over your cheekbones and says, “So where do you want to go first?”

As you look up at her – all tired green eyes and softness – you know there is only one place you both really want to start.

XCVI.

The way to the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art feels like a museum in and of itself.

As you make your way through The Mission, there is so much street art to admire that you can barely keep up with it. Lauren is beyond excited, stroking her fingers over the murals and gasping every time she turns the corner and there is yet another piece of graffiti art to be admired. She’s all _Camz, look over there!_ and _isn’t that fucking gorgeous_ and _did you see those colors_. Still, it’s nothing compared to the look on Lauren’s face when she’s standing in front of Matisse’s _Femme au Chapeau_ in the SFMOMA about an hour later.

It’s absolutely gorgeous, all vibrant colors and piercing, captivating expression. Lauren doesn’t say anything. She just looks and looks and looks at the painting until her gaze goes hazy and you’re not sure her thoughts are with the oils anymore. Her fingers dig hard into the back of your hand.

“Are you ok?” you ask her softly.

She nods, still not saying anything. Then, she wraps her arm around your waist and leans into you abruptly. It’s not until her face falls into the crook of your neck that you realize there are tears dripping down her cheeks.

“Hey…” You pull back and brush your fingers over her cheekbones, feeling a sudden rush of worry in your chest. “Hey – baby, I’m here. It’s ok. Laur, I’m right here.” 

She nods and swallows hard. “Can we—”

Her breathing hitches and she wipes her tears away, before gesturing vaguely to the bench in front of the painting where the old couple that was sitting there before has just gotten up to leave.  

“Yes, of course.” You pull her over to the bench and sit down next to her, quickly reaching for your backpack to pull out your water bottle. She takes a couple of shaky gulps, before handing it back to you. You stroke through her hair and brush your lips against her forehead, rubbing soothing circles into her back until her breathing steadies. 

Something in your chest tightens almost painfully when Lauren slowly leans back and says, “It’s really her, don’t you think? She looks just like my mom.”

You let your eyes trace over the painting again, studying the features of the woman’s face. You nod. “Yeah, she does a little bit.”

Lauren takes a shaky breath. “You know,” she says, “I used to have a picture of this painting hanging on the inside of my bedroom closet at home. It wasn’t a real poster. I found it online and I used the printer at school to print it. It was in black and white and only the size of a page, but I loved it so much.” Her gaze stays steady on the painting. “Sometimes, when things were bad with my mom, I barely left my room. I didn’t really know how to deal with it so I used to kick the door of my closet open and lie down on my bed, staring at this picture – hoping that—” Her voice cracks at the end of her sentence, before she breathes out, “Hoping that _this_ could be my mom instead. This lady with her hat, so elegant and beautiful, who looked exactly like her but couldn’t – couldn’t ever hurt anyone in any way.”

Something clenches in your chest.

“It’s just oil on canvas,” she says. “She’s just a painted version of someone who looks a bit like my mom, but still.”

She bites down on her lip so hard that she nearly draws blood.

“Laur…”

She looks at you, so honest and open and vulnerable, and your breathing falls short with the sudden intensity of it, slamming right from your lungs as you realize what you’re seeing, what she’s _allowing_ you to see. This soft and hard kind of girl, this collection of paradoxes kind of girl, is sitting right next to you and allowing you to look at her with all of her sharp edges on display.

She’s the most human and most beautiful thing in this entire museum, and she’s making your lungs ache with how much you want her to know it.

“You know,” she says, before you’ve found any words to explain yourself. “Sometimes I think I’ll never learn to accept it. Sometimes I think I will only ever keep beating her up over it, keep beating _myself_ up over it, even though I’m trying so hard not to.”

She falls into you a little more and you brush your fingers through her hair, burning so hard inside your body that you feel like you can’t breathe, like it’s absolutely impossible to say anything. But then, something like a sentence tumbles from your lips, anyway, as you mumble, “You’re – Lauren, you’re so – I’m so… impressed by you.”

You can feel the bob of her throat against the side of your neck as she takes a sharp intake of breath. “What do you mean?”

“Just that—” Your thoughts are clouded. Your mind is spinning with all your that you feel for her, but you need to try. You need to try and tell her. “Everything is so messy and complicated, but you’re still… you’re trying to allow for it to be. You’re taking your time to learn how to be ok, and that’s really brave, and I’m impressed by that. By you—” You take the deepest breath. “I can’t stop thinking that you’re the most amazing thing in this entire museum – in my entire life, and I’m just so, so very much in love with you…” 

You trail off, because you’re not sure if you’re making any sense, but you can’t help but add, almost as an afterthought, “I know it’s hard and complicated and messy, but maybe everything that’s important and valuable is.” You brush your fingers over her cheekbone. “That’s ok. You’re ok. I got you.”

She looks at you for the longest time, and then she presses her lips right against yours and kisses you hard. You can taste the salt of her tears on her lips. After a moment, she pulls back slightly, only to send your heartbeat racing in your veins, when she mumbles, “Where have you been all my life.”

Your thoughts are stumbling over one another as you feel your stomach clench instantly, because it’s such a big thing to say, and yet it feels like, it feels like—

Lauren’s blush is suddenly high on her cheekbones. There’s nothing but tense breathing between you as she says, “You know, I’ve actually been wanting to…”

You can feel your hands start to sweat with sudden nerves. “Yes?”

“It’s just that…” She looks at you, wets her lips, breaks her gaze away from yours, only to look back a second later as she says, “I think, um, do you think that maybe you would want to – want to be—” Her voice trembles, and then suddenly she runs a hand through her hair and almost shifts away from you completely as she says, “Uh, do you maybe want to go out for some food?”

You blink hard. “Yeah. Sure. Ok.”

“Great.”

She nearly jumps off the bench, before holding her hand out for you to take it. You blink hard, trying to clear your thoughts, and then you get up and interlace your fingers with hers, a small smile curling around your lips at the way she’s completely flustered all of a sudden. You can’t be entirely sure, but something in her shaky smile tells you that Lauren asking you if you want to go out for some food is about the last thing she actually wanted to say.

XCVII.

“Oh, God… You’ve really done your research, haven’t you?”

Lauren gives you a smile. “I take pride in knowing how to keep you satisfied.”

Your heart is pretty much jumping out of your chest with excitement, but you know that Lauren will never let you hear the end of it if you tell her, so you try to shrug it off. “Isn’t a date to the aquarium kind of cliché?”

She winks at you. “Not if the ocean is all your girlfr—”

She stops talking abruptly, eyes wide in shock. It takes you a second to catch your breath, but before you can say anything in response, Lauren is already pulling you through the crowds in the direction of the entrance. Your shock at what she almost called you is quickly forgotten when you make your way into the aquarium. It’s grand and gorgeous, snatching your attention away from the tense moment and right to the brightly colored fish and large sea creatures that are swimming in front of, underneath and above you. It’s crowded, with too many children running around, but you couldn’t care less, because everything you see and read is just so interesting and fascinating.

“This is amazing,” you mumble, pulling Lauren closer to you. “Look how beautiful this is!”

She brushes her lips against your ear. “You are beautiful.”

You roll your eyes but feel the warmth of her words rush through your stomach, anyway. You pull her a little to the side to let a family pass, and then – before you’ve really thought about it – you blurt out, “You know, when I was little, I always wanted to be a marine biologist. I used to go to the library almost every week and get these large informative books about killer whales and sea turtles and everything related to the ocean, and then I’d stay up late and read them under my covers at night with a flashlight. ”

Lauren looks at you for a second, the widest smile spread on her face. Then, she shakes her head a little and says, “Babe, why the hell are you still majoring in International Relations?”

It catches you a little off guard. You feel a familiar rush of tension clenching in your chest because it’s been a while since you’ve thought about the argument you had with your dad over winter break, but you haven’t forgotten about it. You also haven’t forgotten that Lauren had been looking into the Marine Biology programs at UCLA for you. You may have spent quite some time going through the brochures, too. But still, you can’t just—

“My dad,” you mumble. “He really wanted me to do IR, and I… I know what you’re going to say, Lauren, but I can’t just transfer. I’m halfway through sophomore year already and it would just be too complicated.”

You trail off when you catch her eyes. She bites down on her lip. “Do you like International Relations?”

“Uh, well—” You shrug. “Yeah, it’s interesting – there’s a lot going on in the world and it’s very important to pay attention to global trends in politics and sociology and—”

Lauren gives you half a smile. “I didn’t ask if it was important. Of course it is, but do you like it? Would you like to have a career in it?”

“I mean, I’m still hoping to play field hockey, but—”

“But what if hockey doesn’t work out?” Lauren takes a small step closer to you. “Baby, I’m not trying to make you feel bad, but think about it – what if hockey doesn’t work out? Would you be happy working for the government? Or for an NGO? Would you really enjoy being a diplomat?”

You swallow hard, not really knowing how to answer that question.

Lauren brushes a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “You know what I think?” she says. “I think you’d be great at whatever it is you end up doing. No matter what that is. I don’t doubt for even a second that you would know exactly how to boss people around and lobby for a better world.” She smiles at the thought. “But I’ve also never seen you get even half as excited about IR as you are right now, here, in this aquarium. Doesn’t that count for something?” 

You sigh, suddenly feeling a little freaked out. “It does. Laur, of course, it does, and I have been thinking about it, too, but I can’t just – my dad, he would—”

“Your dad doesn’t have to live your life,” she says. “He may have a vision for your future, but you are the one who needs to live it.”

You bite down on your lip. “I don’t know. It’s all very… stressful to think about.”

Lauren nods. “I know.” She presses her lips against your forehead. “You don’t have to decide right now. But just – maybe think about it?”

You take a shaky breath and nod, before leaning into her as you mumble, echoing her words from earlier today, “Where have you been all my life.”

The smile that curls around Lauren’s lips at your words makes your whole chest light up again.

XCVIII.

After the aquarium, you spend the afternoon hanging out at Pier 39, which is touristy but great, before slowly making your way back downtown to the apartment to freshen up and relax a bit before dinner. You’ve decided you want to take Lauren out, which makes her protest until you step out of the bathroom wearing one of the nicest dresses you own.

“That’s not really fair…” she mumbles, but she doesn’t seem to mind at all.

You texted Ally for dinner recommendations and the restaurant does not disappoint. _Foreign Cinema_ is the typical ‘dinner and a movie’ date – except, it’s anything but typical. Crowded and intimate, you sit across from Lauren in the dimly lit courtyard, right under the strings of tea lights, while _Everything Is Illuminated_ is playing on the wall behind you. Your chest feels so hot and tingly that you’re barely able to handle it. All you want to do is be closer to her. Feel the brush of her fingers against yours. Listen to the rasp in her voice. Heat up under her gaze. Feeling how she takes you in.

There’s a moment, right after dessert, when Lauren is looking at you so intensely that you can’t help but say, “What?”

She blinks, blushing hard. “Oh, sorry – I just… I was just looking at you.”

You fight your smile. “Yes, I could tell.”

Lauren laughs softly. She pulls your hand a little closer and intertwines your fingers, looking you right in the eyes as she says, “I love being here with you.”

She runs her thumb over the back of your hand, the soft affection making you shiver. You’re a little tipsy on the wine, but something in Lauren’s eyes is making you brave, so you flick your gaze up at hers and mumble, “We could live here, you know. In San Francisco. One day.”

Lauren bites her lip, stunned in silence for a second, before she says, “You would want to?”

It’s the damn restaurant. It’s the lights and the wine and the fancy dress you’re wearing, pushing these thoughts in your mind. But at the same time it’s also very much _not_ the restaurant. It’s also very much just Lauren when you tell her, “We could live in an apartment like the one we’re staying in now; something small, but with the widest windows and nice wooden floors we could slide on if we’re wearing fluffy socks.” She gives you a lipstick red smile and you let the thought carry yourself away. “You would find these cool vintage art posters at some market or something and at first, I’d pretend not to approve because we can’t have naked women on our walls, Lauren, even if they’re abstract – you know, what if our family comes over to visit? – but you’d be so damn excited about the colors or the composition or whatever—” You smirk at her, “So I’d make you go down on me a couple of times, and then I’d let you put them up, anyway.”

Lauren’s gasp is soft, but so damn hot and attractive; the way her lips part slightly and her eyes go wide. She blushes hard at what you’re saying and her voice is hoarse when she says, “What else?”

You grin at her. “I don’t know. You tell me.”

She bites her lip. “How old are we?”

“Hm…” You squeeze her fingers a little harder, thinking about it for a second. “Give me five years from now.”

It hangs between you for a second, the thing that neither of you is saying. But then Lauren gives you the brightest smile before she says, “Ok, so, you’re twenty-five and you’re either playing for the NCFHA or you’re in graduate school for Marine Biology…” 

She looks up at you for a second, and you surprise both of you when you mumble, “Graduate school.”

Lauren’s smile curls wider. “Ok, you’re in graduate school and I’m… I’m…”

You grin at her. “Teaching field hockey to little kids during the week and working at the SFMOMA on the weekends.”

The lights flicker in Lauren’s eyes as she nods and then says, “I’ll make you coffee in the mornings because you have a lot of early classes. Your kind of coffee. Strong and Italian. I’ll use that complicated stove top thing with the unpronounceable name that you’re so fond of, even though the handle almost falls off and I’ve burned my fingers one too many times already.”

You laugh and Lauren seems to be spurred forward by the sound because she says, “And in the afternoons, whenever you’re free from class early you can come and watch me at practice, making a fool out of myself in front of those kids. We can spend our evenings at the beach or walking around the city, and you can tell me all the new things you learned, all the projects you’re working on, and I’ll try not to bore you when I tell you about the new expositions at the museum.”

She smiles and then says, “Maybe we won’t always have a lot of money and maybe we won’t always have a lot of time. Sometimes we fight about stupid things, I guess. I’ll get on your nerves and you’ll lose your temper. Or you’ll get on my nerves and I’ll say things I don’t mean.” Lauren’s blush darkens. “But I’ll kiss you until you’re smiling again and I’ll make sure to tell you I love you before falling asleep and I’ll get you naked on those nice wooden floors and make you feel it too.”

Your stomach flips hard.

There’s something in your chest, something breathless and pulling. “Do you really think all of that will happen? Do you think in five years—”

Your _we’ll still be together_ dies on your lips, but Lauren seems to know what you stopped yourself from saying, seems to know _why_ you stopped yourself from saying it, because her bottom lip trembles for a moment and then she says, “Camz, I’ve been wanting to ask you, but it’s kind of scary – but I’m just – do you think – will you be—”

There’s a loud crash right next to you as one of the waiters drops a bottle of wine on the hard ground, and the moment is broken.

You feel hot and flustered. When you look back at Lauren you can see that she’s also a little shaken. But then she pulls on your hand and says, more confidently than you expected, “I want to live in San Francisco with you one day.”

You lean forward to kiss her, tangling your fingers in her hair as you pull her close, forgetting all about what almost happened. Again. Your mind is spinning on one thing and one thing only.  

_One day._

XCIX.

By the time you’re halfway through your next and final day in the city, it has become nearly impossible to think about anything else, though.

You can tell Lauren is tense and you know exactly why.

Some part of you wants to just beat her to it and get it over with already, because you’re almost going home, and it’s so painfully obvious what she’s been trying to ask you. But at the same time you sort of enjoy seeing her get so worked up about it only to back out again as the nerves get to her in the last moment. 

You’re pretty sure she wanted to ask you this morning when she was standing between your legs as you sat on the kitchen counter top, sleepy and spent from the night before, only to jolt away from you as soon as she realized the eggs were burning. She almost asked you between the shelves of the City Lights Bookstore. She almost asked you when you were standing on top of Coit Tower, looking at the view of San Francisco, only to decide against at the last moment and proposing to drive out to see the Golden Gate Bridge instead. It’s one of the most impressive sights you’ve ever seen, but clearly even the most cliché destination in all of San Francisco isn’t the right place because Lauren turned back toward the car a stuttering and blushing mess – and now, you’re getting impatient.      

It’s the end of the afternoon and since both of you need to be back in LA tomorrow for classes and field hockey, you’ll be leaving the city soon.

There’s one spot you still want to see, though.

C.

You’re a little surprised Lauren doesn’t know about the 16th Avenue Tiled Steps project, especially since Ally’s cousin has a poster of it right above the bed you’ve been sleeping in, but you fill her in on the way over there. The weather has taken a surprising turn for the worse, with dark clouds shifting in front of the sun, but the mosaics on the steps are still absolutely breathtaking. As soon as you’re out of the car, you can see Lauren’s face light up. 

“Wow,” she breathes out.

You grin at her. “You didn’t think I’d leave San Francisco without making some Instagram worthy tourist pictures of you, did you?”

Before you can even get your phone out, though, Lauren has already hurried over to the steps, leaning forward and tracing her fingers over the small tiles that make up the colorful mosaics. You can’t help but feel a shiver of pride and affection run through you at the way she is so easily captured by anything artistic.

“You want to go all the way to the top?” Lauren says, once you’ve reached her.

You grin at the poorly hidden excitement in her voice. “Of course.”

She grabs your hand and interlaces your fingers. It’s fairly quiet around you. With the threat of bad weather in the sky, there aren’t that many people around, so you can take your time making your way up the tiled steps. The detail in the artwork is incredible; the swirls of the flower paths, the fish and the waves, the stars and the moon, the brightly colored birds, the sun. You climb every single one of the 163 steps to the top, and when you’ve reached it, you barely have time to look at the view, before Lauren grabs your hand and turns toward you.

“I love you.”

The words shoot right down your sternum, through the center of your chest. The wind has picked up a little and now that you’re closer to the sky you can really feel the threat of rain in the air. 

A smile curls around your lips at the look on Lauren’s face and before you can say anything back, she adds, “Can I ask you something?”

Your heartbeat picks up right away. “Yes.”

She takes a deep breath. Then another. “I was just wondering – I mean, I don’t really know how to do this, I guess, because I’ve never really…” She swallows hard. “I’ve never really felt like this, and I’m getting so nervous again, sorry.” She stutters, then straightens her spine. Her palm becomes hot and sweaty in yours. “I’ve been thinking about so many different ways to say this and now I can’t remember any of them because you kind of make me forget, so I guess I don’t really know what I’m saying right now, but, Camz, I—”

Her breath hitches. The sky darkens.

“I love you so much – and I trust you so much, and I just—”

She keeps rambling, blushing through her sentences and you want her to just ask you already because she’s been building up to it for the entire weekend already and you’re _so, so_ ready for it.

“Lauren—”

There’s a shift in the air around you, and then the sky cracks open and the rain breaks free – hard and sudden, crashing down on top of you just as forcefully as you expected it to – and _damn it,_ you’ve never really believed in things like fate but you do have a thing for consistency, and the sight in front of you is all too familiar; drops of water in her eyelashes, soaking her hair, dripping down her beautiful face and—  

“Yes – _yes._ ”

Lauren stares at you. “What – I didn’t even—”

“Yes.” The word falls from your lips again, before you can stop yourself. “Yes, I want to be your girlfriend.”

Lauren’s eyes widen in shock and for one horrible second you think you’ve been completely wrong all this time, but then there’s the tiniest hint of relief on her face, and you stumble over your words as you rush to tell her, “I mean, if you want to be my—” Your breath is shaking. There’s water soaking your skin. Lauren’s eyes are green and stormy and your favorite color. You can’t stop yourself anymore. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

The words hang in the air between you for the heaviest moment, and then she pulls you forward, hard and stumbling and—

“God, yes.”

She gasps the word against your lips in the split second before she kisses you, and then, you can’t feel anything but your heart in your throat and her mouth hot on yours and the rain beating down on you and _yes yes yes_ pulsing through your entire body.

It’s been too long and it’s not been long enough at all, and _this_ is the exact moment. There is no better moment than this. There has not been a better moment than here, in the rain, on top of some sort of art work, with a girl who wants to live in small apartments with you and make you strong coffee in the morning and have sex with you on nice wooden floors. A girl who is planning on being together with you five years from now.   

Lauren breaks away and laughs into your mouth, the release of her nerves breaking free. You relish in the sound.

“Fuck,” she mumbles against your lips. “I was close to having a nervous breakdown. It didn’t occur to you to, I don’t know, help me out with that a little earlier?” You lean up to kiss the smile from her face, but before you can do it, she whispers against your lips, “You’ve been waiting for the rain, haven’t you?”

She looks at you then, her smile so shy and perfect, and it crashes into with the force of the water pouring down from the sky; so hard that your throat tightens with the intensity of it. Everything you’ve ever felt for her explodes, and you thought you’d only ever care for hockey fields and locker rooms and shots on goal, and you thought you knew exactly what life was all about, but it turns out you didn’t even a clue until—

You shake your head and look her right in the eyes. “No, I’ve been waiting for you.”

She trembles at the words and with the rain soaking through your clothes and with _being alive_ pressing you forward you close the last inch between your bodies and kiss your girlfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> There wasn’t any other way this was going to happen than in the rain, of course. Now they can have a scuba diving underwater wedding :) It took exactly a hundred scenes, but they’re finally official. Two more chapters, mates. 
> 
> Let me know your thoughts! I appreciate your kudos and comments so much! You have no idea how much they make my day. Sorry I haven't gotten around to answering the ones on last chapter yet. My mind has been on other things these days, but please know that I read and love every single one of them and I think you are all amazing, amazing people. Have a very great day wherever you are in the world! I love you. 
> 
> -Blake


	26. 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: 
> 
> For those of you who have been asking me for quicker updates, I’m really sorry for the long wait. I know it’s been 84 years, especially for my other fic, 'a sum of small things'. The truth is, without going too much into detail, someone very, very close to me is suffering from a late stage of lung cancer, meaning they are very sick at the moment and are going to pass away soon. This has been extremely hard on me, which is why I can’t promise anything with regard to updates. I hope you’ll understand. 
> 
> I don’t mean to be sad or emotional about it, because I know we’d all rather laugh together at characters being idiots for each other :) But at the same time I really wanted to be honest, because it’s obviously been affecting my life/writing capabilities. I can’t put into words how thankful I am for the support I’ve gotten from you. I will try to do the best I can! 
> 
> For now, please enjoy this final-to-last chapter. Despite being a little heartbroken about the reality of my life at the moment, I hope it turned out all right :) 
> 
> Side note: I have no idea at which point 3000 words of this 7500-word chapter turned into smut, but that is what you’re getting. Prepare your innocent selves. 
> 
> -Blake

CI.

“You did _what_?”

Lauren slams her coffee cup down on the table with such force that half of its content spills over the lid. You grin at her. “Technically, _I_ didn’t do anything. My mom called me a couple of days ago to ask how you were doing, and when I told her she said that she and my dad been waiting for a chance to help out. They’re actually the ones who have taken care of everything.”

Lauren’s eyes are wide in shock as she grabs some paper towels to clean the table. “But, that’s – that’s _insane_. Why would they do that? I’m not – we can’t just – I won’t let—”

You grab her hand. “ _Lauren_.”

She falls silent right away.

“Now, before you’re going to tell me that that you’re not going…” you continue, unable to stop smiling, “You _are_ going.”

Lauren groans. “Camz, I can’t just—”

“No, you can,” you say, cutting her off again. “It’s happening. My dad already booked the tickets and my mom said you’re not allowed to worry about the money because it’s not an issue.” Your smile curls wider. “We’re flying out to Miami this weekend and you and Chris and Taylor are going to get to visit your mom. It’s already been taken care of.”

Lauren falls back into her chair. “Camz, that’s ridiculous. I can’t let your parents pay for stuff like that. They barely even know me. Why would they want to do that?”

“Who says it’s about you?” You grin. “Maybe they know that the only way to get their oldest daughter to come back home these days is to invite you too. Since we’re, you know, _a thing_ now…”

Lauren blushes softly, but her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “I don’t know. I can’t just take them up on an offer like that. It doesn’t feel right.” 

You nod. “I know.” You lean forward to stroke your fingers over her cheek. “I know you rather take care of things yourself. I love that about you.” Lauren’s expression softens. “But at the same time, sometimes it’s ok to let people help you out, don’t you think? My mom means it when she says it’s not an issue. She loved having you over during New Year’s and she just wants to help you out a bit. My dad, too. They know how tough your mother’s hospitalization has been on all of you.”

Lauren stares ahead, not saying anything. She bites her lip back, heavy frown on her forehead as she contemplates your words. After a moment, she says, “Can I pay them back for the tickets? Once I’m able to.”

You nod. “Baby, of course. If that makes it easier, yes. Just – come to Miami with me this weekend.”

Another moment passes and Lauren exhales slowly. Then she looks up at you. “Would you want me to?”

You can’t stop your smile. “Yes, Lauren. I want you to.”

Finally, her eyes light up at the idea, but before she can say anything, one of the baristas makes his way over to your table with a wash cloth to clean the spilled coffee.

“Everything ok here?” he asks with a smile. “Did my coffee taste that bad?” 

“Oh, no,” you tell him. “It’s my fault. I just told my girlfriend out of nowhere that she’s going to have to hang out with my parents over the weekend.”  

The boy laughs and gives you a knowing grin. As soon as he’s back at the counter, you catch Lauren’s gaze, something in her eyes that you can’t quite place.

“What?” you say, feeling a little flustered all of a sudden.

She bites her lip. “Say that again.”

Your stomach flips. “Say what?”

She rolls her eyes. “You know what…”

There’s a moment of heavy and delicious tension as you feel your blush make its way up your cheeks, and then you breathe out, “You’re my girlfriend.”

Lauren’s smile could power an entire apartment block. “One more time.”

“You’re my girlfriend.”

She bites her bottom lip back and your heart stutters at the sight. “I love the sound of that.”  

CII.

“One regular coffee for me and a bottle of water for my girlfriend, please.”

The flight attendant leaves without a second glance in your direction, but Lauren’s words shoot a wave of heat through your chest. “What did you just say?”

You heard her just fine. Lauren shakes her head because she _knows_ , of course, but she gives you a smile and caves anyway. “I asked for a bottle of water for my girlfriend.”

“Wait,” you say, leaning into her. “I don’t think I heard you properly. I’m your what?”

She blows you a kiss. “You’re my—”

“ _For fuck’s sake_.”

Taylor slams her book down onto the airplane table so forcefully that you startle away from Lauren immediately. She gets to her feet and steps into the aisle, her gaze wild with frustration as she turns back to the both of you and bites out, “You’re her girlfriend. She’s your girlfriend. You’re each other’s girlfriends. Jesus Christ, we get it!”

In the stunned silence that follows, Taylor nearly knocks her elbow against Lauren’s head as she aggressively tries to grab her headphones out of her bag in the overhead locker, snapping, “You know – I’ve been damn supportive about this ever since it started, because I’ll admit it’s a nothing short of a miracle that Lo managed to get someone to fall in love with her. But if I have to hear the fucking word ‘girlfriend’ one more time, I’m going to kill you both.”

Lauren stares in shock at her little sister for a moment, before stammering, “ _Hey_ – watch your language.”

Taylor scoffs and rolls her eyes, dropping back into her seat again. “Oh, fuck off, Lo. Go kiss your _girlfriend_ or something.” She puts her headphones on, then seems to realize something. “Or, actually – please don’t. I’d rather not feel like throwing up for the next hour of this flight.”

You bite your lip, trying not to laugh at Lauren’s shocked expression.

“Don’t you tell me what to do—” she starts, trying to sound reprimanding, but Taylor has already closed her eyes and shut herself off from Lauren’s commentary. Lauren scoffs, shaking her head and mumbling, “God, if Taylor ever starts dating someone…”

You can’t help but laugh. “Maybe she’s kind of right. We probably should tone it down it bit.”

Lauren looks conflicted. She sighs, nods, and then mumbles, “But I like calling you my girlfriend…”

It tugs right at your heart. You have to remind yourself that you’re in public, before your thoughts of climbing into Lauren’s lap and kissing her senseless against the back of the squeaking airplane chair get the best of you. “I like being your girlfriend.”

Lauren’s eyes light up and you have to fight your ridiculous smile because this is doing absolutely nothing for _toning it down_.

“Can I tell my mom?” Lauren says then. “That we’re dating, I mean.”

The thought shoots a rush of nerves through your stomach, but you nod and smile and quickly press a kiss to Lauren’s lips in confirmation before saying, “Of course. You know, I think my family is not going to be able to contain their excitement when they hear. Sofi has been talking about you all week.”

Lauren’s eyes go wide. “Wait—” She coughs. “We’re going… you’re going to… tell your parents about – about us?” 

“Yes, of course.” You frown, suddenly a little confused. “Laur, what did you think? Of course we’re going to tell my parents.”

“Oh.” Lauren’s breathing is suddenly a lot quicker. “Ok, yes. That makes sense. I guess, I just – I hadn’t really thought about _that_ … God, that makes me nervous.”

You brush your fingers over her cheek. “You have nothing to worry about. They already know how amazing you are.”

Lauren bites her lip. “Are you sure? I don’t know – last time, with your dad. I… I don’t want to be a disappointment or anything. He probably has entirely different ideas about who you should be with. Someone who isn’t – someone who doesn’t mess things up like I do…”

The way her voice trembles with sudden insecurity rips right through you. “It’s my life,” you tell her, the words falling from your lips quick and pressing. “Remember what you said in the aquarium in San Francisco? My dad doesn’t have to live my life. I do – and I want you in it _._ ”

Lauren stares at you, not yet convinced.

“I love _you_ ,” you mumble. “I don’t care what anyone else thinks, ok?” It sounds stronger than you mean to, but you can’t help yourself. “I’m going to say this a million times, until you will believe me. I want you. All of you. All your thoughts, the things you’re scared about, the things that make your eyes light up. The mess and the uncertainty and the fights. I don’t want static. I don’t want a life someone else has thought up for me.” You tug on her hand to make sure she really gets it. “Laur, I can’t wait to tell people. I can’t wait to tell my parents that I’m so damn in love with my girlfriend.”

Lauren doesn’t say anything. She just looks at you with her eyes wide and her breath high up in her chest, but she holds your hand so tightly you think she won’t ever let go and you can feel the impact of your words everywhere.

You’re so caught up in Lauren’s eyes that you almost startle when Taylor throws her headphones off and says, “Ok, these are absolutely useless.” She sighs and puts them on the table, before turning to you and saying, “That just made me simultaneously nauseous and happy. Stop being so romantic already…” She gives you a trying smile. “Can I be maid of honor at the wedding, though?”

Lauren laughs. “Absolutely not.”

CIII.

Sofi jumps up into Lauren’s arms before she even as much as looks at you. If you didn’t completely understand, you might have been offended. Lauren, for her part, looks possibly even more excited as she picks your little sister up and hugs her close. The sight causes such a rush of affection for both of them that you can’t stop smiling.

Before you can comment on any of it, though, your mother has already stepped forward, nearly suffocating you with how tightly she hugs you.

“Mija,” she says, pulling you further into the living room. “You’re here!” She grabs your face and kisses both your cheeks, before turning towards Chris and Taylor who are standing a little awkwardly behind you. “You must be Lauren’s siblings!”

She gives each of them a warm hug, before turning to Lauren, who has finally managed to pull herself free from Sofi’s hug.  

“Lauren, mija, it’s so good to see you again!” your mother says. Her casual use of the term of affection nearly causes your heartbeat to jump out of your chest.

She wraps her arms around Lauren’s body and you can’t stop grinning at the way your girlfriend flushes scarlet in less than a second as she mumbles nervously, “It’s really good to see you too, Mrs. Cabello.”

Your mother gives her a pointed look. “I swear I told you not to call me that the last time you were here.”

“Right.”

Lauren bites her lip and looks down at the ground, but your mom just smiles, before saying, “I’ve got dinner prepared. Alejandro will come home from work in a minute. You must be very hungry!”

She gestures for Chris and Taylor to follow her, already asking them all sorts of questions. Sofi runs right after them, already too distracted by the new people in your house to give you much attention. You don’t mind, quickly pulling Lauren aside.

“ _Mrs. Cabello_ , huh? Sucking up to my mom already…”

Lauren rolls her eyes. “I’m nervous, ok—”

You kiss her before she can get another word out, relishing in the surprised gasp against your mouth, before she catches on and kisses you back, if only for a brief moment.

“I love you,” you mumble against her lips when you pull back. “Watch me tell my parents just how much, yeah?”

She takes the deepest breath. “The honor is all yours, baby.”

CIV.

Things do not exactly go as planned.

You should have known. You’re about to tell your family about one of the most important things in your entire life and they can’t even be quiet long enough for you to finish a sentence. Sofi keeps humming Disney songs right next to you. Your dad – happy to have a boy in the house for once – is bonding with Chris over some baseball game this weekend, enthusiastically discussing players you have never even heard of. Your mother is firing one question after the other at Lauren and Taylor.  

You try to wait for a lull in the conversation, but when it never comes, you decide to just push forward, since your nerves are starting to get the best of you. “Mamá, papa, there’s something—”

“Oh, Lauren,” your mother interrupts you before you can even get the rest out. “There was such an interesting article in the newspaper about an Italian artist who’s getting a temporary exposition at the Pérez Art Museum – I cut it out for you to read it.” She gives Lauren the brightest smile. “Have you heard anything about it?”

“Thank you,” Lauren answers right away, polite as ever. “No, I haven’t heard about it, but I’ll make sure to check it out. That sounds really great.”

You decide to try again. “Mamá.”

“I thought maybe all of us could go this weekend,” your mother continues, as if she hasn’t even heard you. “Get to know each other a little bit better. What are the art classes at your school like, Taylor?”

You lean back into your chair, sighing hard. There is just no way. Maybe if Sofi would just stop singing, already. Maybe if you could just get your dad’s attention. You can feel your hands start to get clammy, because you’re getting tenser by the minute, but it seems like no one even notices.

“I need to make an announcement!” you blurt out suddenly, raising your voice loud enough for everyone to startle. It’s a bit ridiculous to phrase it like that and you flinch at yourself for half a moment, but you _do_ finally have your parents’ attention.

“Sorry.” You take a deep breath. “There’s something that I really want to tell you guys…” You bite down hard on your lip. “Ok, so – the thing is – Lauren and I—” 

“Oh, mija, I just remembered something!” your mother says, interrupting you again. “Your grandmother wants us to come over tomorrow. Your cousins are going to be there as well. I was supposed to tell you.”

_For fuck’s sake._

“Mom, please – I really need to—”

“Do you come from a big family?” your mother asks Lauren, Chris and Taylor, completely oblivious to your desperation.

Lauren seems unsure whether she should answer or not. She shifts in her chair, giving you a panicked look, before starting to formulate a reply, anyway, “Oh. I guess – I… Well, yeah. On my mother’s side we’ve got—”

“ _Babe_.”

You’re so on edge that you don’t even care that you use the term of affection right in front of your parents, even if it somewhat defeats the purpose of making an announcement. If everyone would just be quiet, you might be able to explain—

“All right, Camila,” your mother says then, putting her cutlery down. “What is going on?”

Finally.

You take a deep breath. “I’ve got some news.”

This is it. This is the most important thing you’ll say today. One of the most important things you’ll say, maybe _ever_. Your dad is looking at you expectantly. Your mother’s smile is soft, though a little confused. Sofi has finally stopped humming. You feel your heartbeat high up in your throat as you lean forward and grab Lauren’s hand, intertwining your fingers.

“Mamá, papa…” There’s a slight tremble in your voice, followed by the stretch of the moment, way too long and tense to be comfortable, and then you say, “I’m in love with Lauren.”

Saying it out loud causes a riot in your veins. There’s a stretched moment of silence in which it feels like everything is coming at you all at once – your father’s expression unchanged; your mother’s smile still soft and confusing; the glint in Sofi’s eyes – and then your mother says, “What is the news?”

You gasp. “ _What_?”

The frown on your mother’s forehead deepens. “You said you had news.”

“What do you – _this is the news_!” you choke out.

Everyone stares at you blankly.

“Lauren and are dating,” you say, waiting for any sort of response, before desperately adding, “She’s my girlfriend. We’re in a relationship together. I’m in love with her.”

There’s another beat of silence and then your mother laughs. “Mija, we already knew that.”

_Fucking hell._

They must have lost their minds. They must not know what the word ‘girlfriend’ means because out of every possible reaction you could have gotten, _this_ was not an option.

“What do you mean you already knew?” Your voice is shaking. “How could you have – I didn’t even say anything – what do you—”

“Sofia told us.”

It takes you a second. Your mother has picked up her fork again, eating her salad like you have been talking about the weather. Your father looks like he’s caught between saying something to you and turning back to Chris to discuss the game, and your sister—

“ _Sofi_!”

Her cheeks are bright red with sudden shame.

“Please don’t get mad,” she stammers. “I didn’t really tell on you, I swear! I just – when you said the love thing could also be between a girl and a girl, I was so happy and I thought I could tell mamá about it, ‘cause I wasn’t sure that she knew! That a girl can be in love with a girl and that they can kiss and marry and stuff, just like with a boy…  I didn’t think she knew that!” Her eyes go wide as she stumbles over her words. “So I told her and she said that she actually _did_ know, and then I didn’t say anything else, because you made me promise. But then when Lauren came to visit, you were so happy and I liked Lauren so much and it just kind of… I think I may have told her, with just a little bit of words, that you… that you love…”

She trails off and you can barely catch your breath. What the hell is happening here? You can’t even structure your thoughts long enough to fully realize that your nine year old sister basically outed you to your parents weeks ago.

Lauren’s thumb is stroking softly over the inside of your palm. Reassuringly. Lovingly. Somewhat calming you down.

“So…” you breathe out after a moment, blinking hard. “You – you knew already?”

“Karla,” your dad says, finally speaking up as well. “What did you expect? Your mother and I are not blind.” His smile spreads on his face, slow but steady. “I’m really happy you told us, though. Now, we can—” His voice falters for barely a moment, before he straightens his spine and steadies himself. “Now, we can officially welcome Lauren to the family.” He looks directly at Lauren and you can feel something in your chest clench hard, but then your father adds, “Me daughter is very lucky to have you in her life.”

At that, your nerves suddenly make way for something warm and wild and ecstatic that only increases when Lauren blushes and says, “I’m lucky to be with her, sir.”

Your father’s smile curls wider, approvingly. “Please call me Alejandro.”

Lauren smiles and nods, your mother continues to eat her salad, and your dad squeezes your shoulder for a second – and suddenly, just like that, everything already seems to be settled, before you’ve even fully realized it.  

CV.

Clara Jauregui looks so much better than the last time you saw her. When you enter the rehabilitation clinic, she’s sitting at a large table in the common area, and judging by the way her face lights up when she sees you, she’d been waiting for you to arrive.  

It’s early Saturday morning. After dinner at your parents’ place last night, your mother dropped Lauren, Taylor and Chris off at their own house. Despite them not having been there for months, Chris and Taylor both really wanted to go back and Lauren wasn’t about to let them go alone. You had tried to come along as well, but your mother had given you a stern look and Lauren had kissed you softly, whispered that this was probably something they had to do on their own, so you had just nodded and kissed her goodnight without much of a fight.

She insisted you would come along to the clinic, though.

All of you are still a little sleepy. The smell of hot coffee and freshly baked pancakes left over from breakfast is still in the air. The windows are opened wide and Lauren’s mother is _smiling_ and looking so excited and healthy.

You’re about to take a step back as you watch Lauren, Chris and Taylor hurry forward, but before you can even mumble an excuse, Clara has pulled you into her and hugs you like she does everyone else. “Camila, it’s so great to see you!”

Initially, you’d been worried about the appointment, unsure whether Lauren, Taylor or Chris would be comfortable seeing their mother again, like this. But as you watch them fall into the most effortless dynamic – talking and laughing and cracking jokes with each other – you can’t help but think that this is probably what all of them really needed the most. 

“I can’t believe I have all of you here with me,” Clara says, stroking the back of her hand over Chris’ cheekbone and squeezing Taylor’s hand a little tighter. “You all look so good. So healthy.”

“You look healthy,” Lauren says. “How have you been?”

Clara’s face falls a little, if only for a moment.

“I’m not going to lie,” she says, after a moment of silence. “It’s not exactly been a walk in the park. It’s taken a lot from me to come here. You all know that. And I’m still having a hard time. I’m far from where I need to be. But the people here…” She smiles weakly. “They are working so hard to help me. They really know what they’re doing – and they’re…” Her voice trembles a little. “I’m learning that my mental health is the most important thing at the moment. I struggle with it, but I’m learning.”

You swallow hard. For a moment you catch Lauren’s eyes as she turns to look at you. She gives you a soft smile, and you know exactly what she’s thinking about – how her own worries about this are always close to the surface of her emotions – and before you can stop yourself, you press your lips against her cheek in a quick, sweet kiss.

When you pull back, Clara is smiling at the both of you, and you can feel yourself blush almost instantly.

“Well,” she says, reaching for Lauren’s hand. “There’s something I never thought I’d see…”

“Lucky you,” Taylor deadpans right away. “I’ve been seeing a little too much of it, actually,”

Clara laughs even harder, while Lauren rolls her eyes, trying to hide just how flustered she suddenly is.

“You know,” Clara says, turning to you with a glint in her eyes that has Lauren’s eyebrows shoot up in quick panic. “When I was in the hospital with Lauren the last time—”

“Mamá—”

“—she talked a lot about you, Camila.”

You can feel the corners of your mouth pull upwards. “Did she?”

Lauren groans. “Oh, God, please, no…”

Clara just smiles even wider and says, “Oh, yes, she did. She thought I was sleeping, but I heard everything. It was a whole story. Something about field hockey games and museums and watching the stars and lying in bed together.” Lauren looks absolutely mortified, but you can’t help but feel your chest burn up as Clara says, “She said that she was falling in love with someone that she probably shouldn’t be falling in love with.” She brings Lauren’s hand to her mouth and presses a kiss to her knuckles. “Looks like everything worked out after all, mija.”

Lauren bites down on her lip, but after a moment, she does flick her gaze up to meet yours and says, “Yeah, I guess it did.”

It curls right around the base of your spine, settling there in the warmest, most comfortable way.

CVI.

It’s a long, good day.

After spending the morning at the rehabilitation clinic with Lauren’s family, you decide to go home to spend some time with your own – also to give Clara some space with her children without having you there. She tells you that you’re more than welcome to stay, but since this trip was mostly meant for Lauren, Chris and Taylor to hang out with their mother, you decide to leave them to it. You know that Lauren also wanted to talk to the doctors about her mother’s progress and the prospects of leaving the clinic, and it might be best if they have some privacy for that. Besides, you have some sort of family reunion at your grandmother’s to get to, apparently.

When you get home, Sofi has baked you nearly a hundred cookies.

She’s looking so guilty that you can’t help but pick her up and hug her close, instantly forgiving her for telling on you. As soon as she’s smiling again, you spend an hour singing karaoke with her while you eat yourself nauseous on the cookies, until it’s time to visit your grandmother.

For the most part, it’s uneventful. Typical family stuff. The same old stories and the same old jokes. It’s not until one of your uncles asks you about field hockey and your International Relations major that you feel the all-too-familiar wave of panic rush through you. You still haven’t really decided what you’re going to do next year. You can feel your father’s gaze on you, but you purposely avoid his eyes.

Later. You’ll think about it later.

When you finally get back from your grandma’s place, it’s already late and dark outside. Lauren has texted you that they’ve had a really great day together and that they’re back at their own house already. She’s ended the message with _guess I won’t get to kiss you anymore today :(_

You’ve barely read the words when the idea already settles in your mind, unshakable. With a quick glance at the clock, you tell your parents you’re going to bed, quickly gathering all the pillows you can find in your room and pushing them under your covers. You send a message to Lauren to text you her address, flicking off the lights when she replies two seconds later.  

There’s no way you’re ending the day without kissing her.

CVI.

“Why do I feel like this is not the first time you’ve climbed out of your window in the middle of the night only to climb up through someone else’s?”

You roll your eyes, kicking your flip flops off and stepping forward. “Shut up, Lauren.”

She smirks and opens her mouth, but before she has the chance to say something cliché, you wrap your arms around her neck and kiss her hard. She moans and stumbles back, before pulling you into her, hands low on your hips as she angles her face to deepen the kiss immediately. It’s hot and slick and needy – way too desperate considering the fact that it’s only been a couple of hours since you last saw each other – but you can’t stop yourself. When Lauren drags her fingers up under the hem of your shirt, ghosting them over your skin in heated patterns, you nearly whimper into her mouth, unable to stop the way your body responds to things building so quickly.     

She smirks, perfectly aware of the effect she’s having on you. With another kiss – slower, more drawn out – she pulls you further into the darkness of her bedroom, making you lean into her, before using the momentum to press you right against the wall and kiss you, harder and faster again.

_Fuck._

It’s like you haven’t touched each other for days – that’s how much you’re aching for her hands all over you. When you push your thigh up between hers, she gasps against your lips. The sound of her ragged breathing burns right between your legs and you pull her even harder into you, wanting to hear it quicken even more.

Lauren is clearly just as desperate as you are, running one of her hands right up under your shirt, smiling when it makes you hum against her lips, when your nipples strain hard against her fingers. Her other hand is tangled in your hair. Desperate. Wild. Demanding. The taste of her mouth on yours so fucking addictive.

The second your fingers curl under the waistband of her shorts, she grabs your wrist to stop you, though.

You nearly whine in protest, but manage to swallow back the sound when you see the look in her eyes. It shuts you right up.

“Someone’s impatient…” Lauren whispers against your ear, before moving her lips lower and placing hot, wet kisses all over the line of your neck, still keeping you in place, pressing you back against the wall with her body.

You huff in frustration, trying to free your wrist from her grip, trying not to moan out at the way her tongue on your skin is driving you crazy. Instead of letting you go, Lauren pins both your hands against the wall, right next to your head.

“Lauren—”

“ _Camila_.”

Your name on her lips sends a heavy shiver down your spine.

The green of Lauren’s eyes is bright as ever, as she locks her gaze right into yours and says, “How about we play a little game, baby? My house, my rules.”

Your hips jerk forward outside of your control. Lauren smirks. Pulling your wrists up higher, she uses one of her own hands to hold them together, while her other hand trails hotly over the skin of your ribs, your stomach, then lower, teasing you, playing with the button of your shorts, testing your patience—

“ _Fuck_ ,” you breathe out. “Ok. Your house. Your rules. Tell me, then.”

She smiles into your skin, kissing you softly above your collarbone, taking a moment to relish in how quickly you agree to play along, before husking into your skin, “Rule number one…”

She lengthens the silence, biting at your skin a little, causing your heart to speed up right against her touch, before adding, “You’re not allowed to take your own clothes off. I’m the one who’s going to strip you naked.”

You bite your lip in frustration, because you’re already so desperate to feel Lauren’s naked skin on yours that you’re actually _this_ close to just ripping your flimsy excuse of a t-shirt to pieces. She knows it of course, judging by the damn smug smile on her face while she toys with the waistband of your shorts, letting her fingers slip over your skin with the lightest of touches. “Ok?”

You take a moment, trying to find a way to resist, to fight her a little bit, because you can’t give in too easily, but then Lauren pulls your zipper down, ghosting her fingers over your panties, almost exactly where you want to have them, but just _not quite._

Her breath is hot against your skin. “Ok, baby?”

“ _Yes_.”

The word is barely a breathless whimper. Close to moaning. You try to rock your hips forward into her touch, but Lauren pulls her hand back immediately. “Rule number two…”

“How many of these are there going to be—”

Lauren kinks her eyebrow up at you and you groan.

“Rule number two,” she says, patient as ever. “You’re going to be really quiet for me.” She leans into you, her mouth so hot and close against yours that you can feel the vibration of her voice as she whispers, “You got that baby?” The slight authority in her voice is making your legs tremble. All you can feel, everywhere, is how fucking hot you’re getting for her, even more so when she adds in a low whisper, “I’m going to touch you so good that all you’ll want to do is scream, but you’re not allowed tonight. You’re going to be good and quiet for me.”  

“Fuck, Lauren, that’s—” you whisper, but Lauren halts you with a stare and the word _impossible_ dies on your lips, only giving way to a throaty, “Ok.”

She kisses you, capturing your bottom lip, while running her hands a little higher under your shirt again, tracing the tips of her fingers over your boobs. When she pulls back, she whispers, “Final rule.”

You nearly hum in relief, because your patience is thinning out quickly and you’re not sure you can even handle any more rules. Lauren grins at you, knowing exactly how much you’re struggling not to slam her hard against the wall and have your way with her right there and then. Knowing _exactly_ how much, because before you can do anything, she leans forward and whispers against your mouth, “I’m going to be in control tonight.”

Your inhale is sharp and quick.

Lauren says, “That means you’re not allowed to touch yourself unless I tell you to. You’re not allowed to touch me unless I tell you to. You’re going to let me have complete control.”

Your swallow hard.

“Do you think you can do that for me, baby?”

It shoots your pulse right between your legs. You’re trembling and shaking, already so, _so_ incredibly turned on that you can barely breathe. It’s taking all of your efforts to force yourself to open your eyes again, look up at her, and nod. “ _Yes_.”

There’s only a second in which you can see the expression on Lauren’s face shift, and then she pulls on the hem of your shirt, nearly tearing it off of you and throwing it aside, right before she puts her hands on your hips and twists you around abruptly. You gasp at the sudden change, your front now pressed against the wall, your back flush against Lauren.

Her breathe is hot against your ear as she whispers, “Hands against the wall, Camila.”

You bite back a moan, but remembering rule number two, you try your very best to stay as quiet as you can, while you do what she says, pressing your palms against the cool wall. Now that you can’t see her anymore, all your senses sharpen at once. Your skin is heated all over, and you’re breathing is coming out in short, uneven pants.

Lauren shifts behind you, steadying her hands on your hips. Right away, she starts traces mindless circles you’re your skin with the tips of her fingers. Over and over again. Making you tremble right under her touch. She presses kisses right against the back of your neck. Your shoulder blades. She’s taking her time, teasing the fuck out of you until you can barely keep yourself from turning around. It’s driving you goddamn insane, and Lauren knows it. She _knows_ it’s only making you more and more turned on with every torturous second.  

Right when your control is about to break, Lauren abruptly snaps your bra open and pulls you hard against her, dragging her hands all the way up your bare stomach until she’s cupping your boobs under the flimsy fabric. You bite your lip so hard you nearly draw blood. Lauren’s mouth is burning on your skin, licking all the way up to your neck. Shaking, you fall into her a little more, completely at her mercy. The sensations are overwhelming; her fingers on your nipple, her teeth on your skin, one of her hands curling right around your hip bone, fingers running lower and lower and _lower_ , right where— 

The second she slips them into your open shorts, you moan loudly, and Lauren draws back right away.

“I think you’re forgetting the rules, baby.”

You nearly scream, this time from frustration, the sheer dominance in her voice the only thing that is making you stay quiet. A hot second later, your desperation spikes again, this time because Lauren abruptly pulls back from you completely, taking her hands off you without another word and stepping back.

The sudden absence of her hands on your body is making it near impossible for you to breathe. You can’t see what she’s doing. The tension stretches. Longer and longer and longer. Your chest if heaving up and down with your short breaths. The rate of your heart is completely out of control at this point.

One moment, you can’t feel anything but the stretch of your breathe, the next, Lauren is right back against you—

Completely naked.

_Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck—_

She’s quick to act, wrapping her arms around your waist, making sure you can feel the press of her hardened nipples right against your back, the feel of her hips lined up with your ass.

It’s fucking torture.

“Hm,” she breathes against your ear, pulling on your shorts. “Let’s get rid of these. I want to feel how wet you are for me.”

_Oh, god._

She hooks her fingers under the waistband and then drags them down, taking your panties – which are absolutely goddamn _ruined_ at this point – right along with them. The second you’re naked against her, you rock back, searching for any sort of friction to relieve the aching at the apex of your legs.

“Camila – _fuck_ ,” Lauren breathes out, caught off guard. She digs her fingers into your hips a little harder in warning, but despite herself, she presses closer against you. Her voice trembles slightly when she says, “That’s not fair…”

You don’t give a fuck, only rocking harder into her, making her whimper slightly.

“Fuck,” Lauren swears again, right before reaching forward and grabbing one of your hands from the wall, covering your fingers with her own as she pulls it hand back, making you reach behind you.  

You’ve only got a second to realize what she’s doing before Lauren pushes your hand right between her own legs as she gasps out, “You’re making me so fucking wet.”

_It’s too much._

The second she makes you touch her, you break. Abandoning all care for Lauren’s so-called _rules_ at once, you spin around, dropping your loose bra on the floor as you press yourself hard against her naked body, stroking her right between her legs, feeling nothing but heat and dripping _wetness_ —

She moans out your name, stumbles at the abrupt shift, whimpers into your mouth when you kiss her – all tongue and heat and tension, right before you break away to kiss the skin of her neck, licking down to her collarbone, to her nipples, while you keep working her up with your fingers and—

You’ve barely slipped inside of her, when she pushes you roughly away from her.

“ _Babe_ ,” she husks out. She’s trying to make it sound like a warning, but you can see in the wild of her eyes, the way you’ve got her completely disheveled in seconds. The heat of it pulses right through your veins. Part of you desperately wants to push her on the bed and show her just how many more rules you can break, but then again, the way Lauren’s voice goes all low when she’s being dominant… the way her eyes darken…

Maybe you’re not done playing yet.  

Before Lauren can say anything else, you make up your mind, stepping forward and kissing her softly, slowly. You try to lengthen the moment as much as you can, before you whisper against her lips, “Sorry, I’ll be – I’ll be good again. I promise. You’re in control. Just – just _…_ ”

She kinks her eyebrow at you. “Just what?”

You bite your lip, building momentum, knowing exactly the effect your words will have on her when you say them. Hand on your hip, you take the smallest step backwards, relishing in the way Lauren’s gaze shifts down to run over the curves of your body, if only for a second.

As soon as her eyes are locked on yours again, you breathe out what you know will get you exactly what you want.

“ _Fuck me, please_.”

Lauren’s gaze darkens. You can see the shiver that runs through her body, and then all of a sudden her hand is on your wrist and she yanks you toward the bed, falling back on it and pulling you right into her lap.

You nearly come undone at the first contact of your center against Lauren’s thigh. With your head tilted back, her mouth works its way all over, kissing and licking and sucking at your neck, before she moves down and circles the tip of her tongue over your nipples. Desperately, you try to rock your hips forward, creating friction. It’s ridiculous how sensitive you are already, how quickly she’s gotten you worked up, right on the edge. You don’t care, though. The build between your legs is pulsing hard. Mind-numbing. All-consuming. The only thing you care about is having her right against you like this. Moving right over her. Into her. Your movements get more frantic by the second as your mind singles out on Lauren’s body, naked and hot against you, slick and wet and—

She flips you over abruptly, onto your back.

“Oh, no,” she husks. “You’re not allowed to come yet. Not unless I tell you to.”

You force yourself not to whine, to stare up at her instead, challenging her with your eyes and the angle of your hips, trying to tell her _fuck me, fuck me, fuck me_ without actually saying the words.

She seems to get the message, though, because the next thing you know, she’s right on top of you, kissing you deeply, running her hands all over your body. It feels like you’re close to bursting out of your skin. With her lips hot against your pulse and her fingers drifting between your legs, you’re right on the edge again in no time.

Lauren seems to feel it too. She pulls back, grins at you and then moves backwards, down your body. For one hot second you think she’s actually going to give you what you want and your breath hitches roughly in the back of your throat at the thought of her face between your legs, but then she pushes herself up on top of you instead, aligning her hips with yours so that she’s straddling you, before grinding down hard—

You choke on the air.

_She’s so wet._

You can barely breathe. She’s slick and smooth, angling her hips down on you in the slowest, most torturous movements, fingers pressing into the taut muscles of your stomach, as she closes her eyes and loses herself in the sensation of grinding on you. Your throat goes dry at the sight of her – the swell of her breasts, the trembling of her thighs, the goddamn pace of her movements, getting faster by the second, more frantic, more desperate, yet so fucking in control. One of her hands falls between her legs and she starts rubbing circles right over her clit. In the next shift of her hips, she gasps hard. You can recognize the soft twist of her face. Fuck, she’s getting close, she’s totally just going to make herself—

Right when you think she’s about to throw herself over the edge, Lauren slows down, opening her eyes to pin you down with her stare, flashing you a wicked smile as she leans back and then strokes her other hand right between your thighs.

You’re so unprepared for her touch that your hips buck up the second she slides her fingers over you.

“ _Lauren_ —”

Her name falls from your lips in a strangled moan and you’re about to ready yourself for her to pull away at your breaking the rules once again, but Lauren also moans, moving her fingers over you exactly how you want it, over and over again, until you can’t handle it anymore and she pumps them right inside of you, breathing out, “I want to fucking hear you moan.”

It sends your pulse through the roof. Not holding back anymore, you begin to rock harder against her hand, already feeling the rapid build-up inside of you. You’re so damn close that it’s almost uncomfortable.

Lauren whimpers on top of you, speeding up the movements of her hips, touching herself, fingers on her clit—

She’s trembling so hard, so very close to coming undone. The sight alone nearly pushes you right over the edge, but you’re not sure if you’re, you can’t _without_ —

“God, Camz—” Lauren husks. “I’m so – I’m going to... I want you to—” Her breathing falls short for a moment, but then with another quick flick of her wrist she gasps out, “ _Come for me, baby_.”

The permission is all you need. With a final hard push of Lauren’s fingers, you crash right over the edge of your pleasure. Seconds later, Lauren’s body shakes hard with the force of her own orgasm and then she collapses right on top of you, swallowing your moans with her own.

It takes both of you a really long time to steady your breathing. When you finally manage to, the only thing you can get out, is, “That was _so_ good.”

Lauren presses her lips against your cheek, stroking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear and grinning in a way that can only mean one thing.

“Good,” she whispers. “Because I’m so not done for tonight…”

CVII.

You’re many more hours and many more orgasms into the night when you finally get a chance to look around at Lauren’s room. Curled into her body on the small bed, sweaty and spent, you can’t help but love the obscure art posters on the wall, the collection of books on her desk, the old hockey sticks in the corner – all the little things that add to who she is.       

“Do you feel good about being here again?” you whisper into her skin. “About the situation with your mom?”

Lauren nods. “Yes.” She’s silent for a moment, before adding softly, “You know, I was worried that it might be too confrontational for us to come back, that it might feel like nothing had changed, or could ever change. But being here again…” She swallows hard. “It’s almost the opposite. I can finally see that it was a good decision to move to L.A., you know? I’ve been feeling guilty about it for months, but we’ve all made such…” She shifts against you, searching for her words, “Such progress, I guess. My mother, of course. But also Chris and Taylor and – and even me, I guess.” She exhales slowly. “We’ve come a long way from this place. We’re not there yet, of course, but that’s why it’s good to be back. To feel like we’re on the right way, at least. To realize we really do have influence in the way our lives play out.” 

You press your kisses against her jaw, nodding in her skin. Both of you are silent for a while, just breathing each other in. Lauren’s words echo in your thoughts.

_We do have influence in the way our lives play out._

“Baby,” you mumble.

“Yeah?”

You take a deep breath. “I think I want to quit hockey.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> How was that? Next chapter is going to be the last chapter. ARE YOU READY?
> 
> As always, thanks for reading/kudo-ing/commenting. Again, I can’t promise anything about updates, but please bear with me. As a long time reader of fanfiction myself (read: printing out Harry Potter fics on my dad’s work printer so I could read them under the covers with my flashlight when I was 13…), trust me when I say I understand the frustration of slow updates better than most haha! Still, grief is unpredictable. I really can’t make promises.
> 
> For now, please know how much I appreciate your support. I hope you all have a wonderful day, wherever you are in the world! 
> 
> -Blake


	27. 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: 
> 
> The final chapter. Here we go. 
> 
> (Just a small reminder that I actually have zero knowledge about American collegiate field hockey, just in case I had people convinced otherwise.)
> 
> Enjoy the chapter, my loves!  
> —Blake

CVIII.

The pitch is clear; quiet and empty in the early morning light.

You close your eyes and breathe in deeply. The air is still a little cold, but fresh and breezy, with the promise of a hot day. You drop your hockey bag near the goal post and leave your stick on top of it, trying to ignore the tight feeling in the center of your chest. You roll your shoulders back, jump up and down a couple of times, take another deep breath. There’s a burning feeling at the base of your throat, but you bite your lip, shake your muscles awake, try not to think about anything – and then you take off running.

It’s impossible.

You notice it right away. You’re too tense, too nervous about today. Too nervous about everything. There’s a strange sort of stutter in your body, blocking you, making it impossible to fall into a steady rhythm. Your muscles ache way more than usual, won’t warm up properly, no matter the distance you cover. Your breathing is jagged and you’ve only run four laps when you already start to feel like quitting. You clench your fists and push through it, anyway, rounding the corner of the field and using your momentum to ignore the pull of the sidelines.

_One stride after the next after the next._

If there’s anything your father has taught you, it’s that your body is always stronger than your mind.

You force yourself to go faster, hoping the speed will make you fall into it easier. Sweat is starting to drip from your neck down your spine. Your arms are too heavy and your cleats keep dragging. One more lap. Find the corner, round it. Onto the next. Find it. Round it. Another lap. Then another. For the longest time it seems undoable; your nerves making you nauseous, your thoughts spinning so hard that your temples ache from it, your muscles strained, short of breath—

And then something slowly starts to shift.

There’s a pulsing energy inside your body that is fighting hard to keep you going. Some heavy pull that is starting to ground you. _One stride after the next after the next._ This is what you know. You’ve been running since you’ve been walking. You’ve been rounding corners of hockey fields for as long as you can remember – and somewhere inside, your body picks it up again. The pitch is wide as always. The air cool. Your cleats just _going_ and _going_ and _going_. Keeping you steady on your feet. Forward, forward, forward.

This is your world.

(Part of it; most of it; some of it.)

It’s like the thought opens your lungs a little wider. You stop staring at your watch. Stop looking at anything other than ahead of you. Once, you were a kid who could run without thinking about it – and somewhere inside, your body picks that up again as well.

When you finally catch sight of her, you’ve got no idea for how long you’ve been running or how long she’s been watching you already, leaning back against the fence with a smile and her hockey bag swung over her left shoulder.

You nearly slip on the grass, before coming to an abrupt halt in front of her.

Lauren grins. “Of course you’re here already. I thought the team meeting didn’t start until 8…”

You double over, steadying yourself with your hands on your knees, breathing so roughly that you can barely speak. “I – I need – a second.”

Lauren hands you her bottle of water. Doesn’t say anything. Just waits until the black spots in front of your eyes have started to clear and you can slowly stand up again, though you have to lean against the fence for a moment longer, your arms up over your head to create more space in your chest.

Finally, you take a deep breath and look up. “Hi.”

Lauren shifts forward, blushes a little – as if you haven’t done more scandalous things on this pitch – and presses a soft, quick kiss to your jaw. “Good morning.” She strokes a sweaty strand of hair from your eyes, frowning slightly as she looks at you. “You were going pretty hard – is everything ok?”

Your chest heaves up and down. Your mind has cleared but your emotions are still high up in your throat – and Lauren can tell. Still, you don’t want to make things worse than they are so you mumble, “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

She sees right through it. “Baby, you don’t run like that if you’re fine.” Sliding her hand down your arm, she takes hold of your trembling fingers. “Is this about the game today? About your dad?”

A rush of vulnerability pulses through you. “I don’t know. Maybe. I’m just – it all feels so… definite.”

Lauren gives you a faint smile, brushing the pad of her thumb over the inside of your palm. “I know,” she says. “It does, doesn’t it?”

You turn half towards the field, looking at the green of the pitch, the empty stretch of what you’re most familiar with.

“Maybe today is just a really bad idea,” you mumble. “What if I’m ruining all my chances? What if I fuck up everything I’ve ever worked for by doing this?”

Lauren bites her lip, considering it. Then she says, “I don’t think you’re ruining your chances or fucking anything up. You’re too good for that. But, Camz—” She squeezes your fingers a little tighter. “I mean… I know Coach Martin already agreed to everything, but if you really feel like it’s a bad idea, you shouldn’t do it, babe.”

You shift on your feet. “I don’t know – I think I _want_ to do it, but I’m just…” Your breath catches roughly in the back of your throat as you find her gaze. “I’m just a little scared.”

Lauren nods. Pulls you forward. You’ve got half the mind to tell her that you’re too sweaty, but she doesn’t seem to care. “You know what,” she says. “You can always decide after the game. We’ll talk to Martin and your dad and everyone else after the game, ok?”

You give her faint smile. “Ok.”

Lauren kisses your temple, then smiles. “Speaking of the game, you ready to play?”

You can’t stop your smile. “I’m ready to play with you again.”

Lauren kinks her eyebrow up. “I’m sure you are.”

You roll your eyes. “Not like that…”     

She grins and you step up to kiss her before she can say anything smug in response. She falls into it for a moment, before smiling against your lips, pushing you back again. “All right, hurry up and get ready. We’ve got a game to win today. That is, if you still have energy left to score goals…”

You blow her a kiss. “I can’t wait to show those scouts which one of us can run faster, Lauren.”

She doesn’t waste a beat. “Watch and learn, Camila.”

You’ve only got about a second to see the challenging flash of her smile, before she takes off running and you’ve got no choice but to sprint after her as you race each other to the locker rooms.      

CIX.

It is one of the most important games. Coach Martin makes sure to tell you at least a hundred times during the bus ride from L.A. to San Diego. Dinah falls asleep about ten minutes into his speech, but apart from that, everyone is tense and a little on edge. It’s the final game of the Spring Selection games. While both your team and UCSD’s team have already placed for the Spring Championship, you still need to beat them today if you want to impress the scouts – and your dad.

He flew out from Miami yesterday and has been texting you pictures of the pitch and the most up-to-date weather conditions all morning. You’re more nervous about this game than you’ve been about any other game before. The only good thing about is that Lauren’s finally been cleared to play again which means you won’t have to suffer through all of it alone.  

Things get a little better when you get off the bus at the university. The sun is high in the sky, hot on the back of your neck. You’ve still got some time left before warm-up starts, but from the moment you walk out onto the pitch, you can feel your teammates’ nerves shift into hyped-up energy as everyone suddenly seems ready to start. The sight of the scouts and the professional players on the stands is enough to sharpen everyone’s focus into game mentality; they’re ready to play. Ready to win. A hot simmer of pride courses through your body at the realization.

The UCSD team is already gathered on the far end of the field.

“Look at them,” Dinah says, eyes narrowed. “This, ladies, is what bitches who are about to lose their future look like.”

Ally nearly chokes on a sip of water. “ _Dinah_.”

“What?” Dinah says. “I’m stating facts.”

You can’t hear much from Ally’s answer except for a couple of re-occurring phrases like _sports mentality_ and _positivity_ and _be nice_ , because you’re busy scanning the stands for any sight of your dad. He must be out here already, probably discussing the qualities of all the individual players on your team with as many scouts as possible. You can’t spot him, though, and the nerves in your stomach clench painfully.

Normani knocks her hockey stick against yours to catch your attention. “Hey, Mila – you ok?”

You take a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m just – I’m just going back to the locker rooms for a second, ok? Forgot to fill up my water bottle.”

Your bottle is completely full, but even if she notices, Normani doesn’t comment on it.

The locker room is cool and quiet. You cross the space between the benches and lean your hands on the edge of the sink in the back, feeling a little shaky on your legs. With a heavy breath you stare at your reflection. Your hair is still pulled tight in a bun, not yet messed up by the wind and sweat and fight of the game. The navy blue of your jersey is still smooth and clean. You look tired, though. Skin pale. Lips a little chapped. Dark circles under your eyes.

“Warm-up starts in five.”

It takes you a second to find Lauren’s eyes in the half dark, but as soon as you catch sight of her in the mirror, leaning against the door post, you can’t hold back your smile. “Look at you,” you mumble, “Already trying to boss me around, huh? You know this game is still mine, right?”

Lauren blows you a kiss. “All of them are yours, babe.”

You turn around, the uncertainty of everything suddenly cracking in your voice as you breathe out, “I’m so fucking nervous.”

Lauren is right in front of you immediately, stroking her fingers over your cheek, before pulling you into her and pressing her lips against the corner of your jaw. “I know,” she mumbles, kissing the words into your skin. “I know, it’s ok.”

Her fingers fall steady against your hips and you can’t help but lean into her, sinking yourself into the familiarity of your girlfriend’s soft skin and scent and touch.

“I love you,” you whisper, smiling as Lauren seems to shudder a little against you, never ready for the words.

She lets her fingers drift under the hem of your jersey, running them up and down your spine as she pulls you even closer, into her body with determination.

“You know…” she says, breath hot against the shell of your ear. “If you’re really that tense—” Your eyes fall closed as she ghosts her mouth over your skin. “—I could always try and distract you. Help you relax a bit…”

She licks at the skin of your neck and you have to bite your lip to suppress an embarrassing throaty sound from escaping you. “ _Lauren_ …”

“Hm?”

Her hands move a little lower on your hips, playing with the waistband of your shorts while she keeps kissing your neck, making your legs feel _way_ shakier than before.

“We…” You swallow hard. “We don’t have time.”

“Don’t we?” Lauren mumbles, curling her thumb a little harder over the inside of your hip, making you gasp.

“Warm-up starts in five.”

Lauren kisses the corner of your mouth, grinning. “They wouldn’t start without their captain.”

“Exactly.” It sounds raspier than you mean to. “You, clearly—” Lauren pushes her hips into you just right, and _oh_ _god_ … “—still have a lot to learn – before you can be—”

She kisses you before you can say the word, pushing you half up on the sink, forcing you to wrap your leg around her hip to keep from losing your balance. You fall into it before you can stop yourself, moaning into her mouth and rocking your body forward.

As soon as you realize what is happening, you try to pull back, though. “Lauren, we really _can’t_.”

Lauren grins smugly at you. “It’s like you think I’m not able to make you come in less than five minutes…” She kisses you hotly. “Besides – you know we have to. If we don’t, we’ll lose the game. That’s how it goes. It’s scientifically proven.”

“God.” You try to scoff at her, but your resistance is rapidly falling apart with every passing second that she keeps working you up. “Fine,” you choke out finally, when Lauren’s wandering fingers become too hard to ignore. “But only so we can win the game. Science and all that.”

Lauren pushes her body into you. “It’s only ever been about the game.”

You laugh into her neck and then curl your fingers right under the waistband of her shorts. “Let’s play, then. Five minutes. Not a second longer.”

CX.

It’s more than a couple of seconds longer. Dinah groans as soon as you and Lauren make your way back onto the field. “Ugh. Please tell me you didn’t.”

Your blush shoots hard up to your cheeks. “Didn’t do what?”

Normani takes one look at you and laughs so hard that she snorts. “Oh, God, I think I’ll take a shower at home after the game. What is it with you and locker rooms…”

Ally is looking at the four of you with a very confused frown on her face. “What are you talking about? Why would you shower at home? It’s a two hour drive, Mani.”

“Let’s go warm up,” you say quickly, pulling Dinah along with you before she can open her mouth to enlighten Ally.

Lauren winks at you smugly, before taking off at a run, and you can’t decide if you want to throw your hockey stick at her head or run after her to drag her right back into that locker room to continue _helping each other relax_. In the end you settle on trying to work your way through the warming up exercises as quickly and efficiently as you can. It takes you a moment, but you’re finally starting to feel your focus shift into place, finally starting to a little bit feel ready for this game. The buzz of the audience, the energy of your teammates, the thought that this is still your world, still what you’re good at, what you love—

“Camila Cabello?”

You spin around. One of the UCSD girls is standing right in front of you, a hand on her hip, blonde hair pulled back in a tight knot, smiling at you like she’s someone you’re supposed to know, someone you used to hang out with maybe, someone you haven’t seen in years—

You gasp. “ _Mia_ —”

The girl smiles and then steps forward to hug you before you have even the change to process the fact that Mia Anderson – the girl you once tried to climb on top of a goal post for, the one that got you that small scar on the inside of your hip, the one who kissed you afterwards to make you feel better – is apparently UCSD’s very own field hockey captain.

“I completely forgot that you play at UCLA!” Mia says, pulling back and beaming at you. “I can’t believe you’re here – it’s been, what, seven years?”

You’re too shocked to do the math, but she’s probably right. Somewhere in the back of your mind you can hear Coach Martin scoff at you for not doing your research on UCSD’s team properly, but you’ve got more important things to worry about right now. The fact that your old summer camp crush is standing right in front of you, for instance.

You cough, trying to play it cool. “So, how – how are you?”

Mia gives you her most sparkling smile. “I’m good. Things are good. We’re ready to beat you guys today.”

She laughs and you can feel yourself smile despite yourself. “I wouldn’t be too sure of that. I already beat you once, remember?”

Her eyes lock on yours. “Oh, I remember.” For half a moment it seems like she wants to say something else but then one of her teammates calls her name and she takes a step back. “I’ve got to go. Good luck.”

She extends her hand and you shake it tentatively, still half paralyzed by the shock of seeing her here in front of you. “Yeah, you too.”

She smiles. “Let’s play some field hockey.”

It sparks your competitiveness with a sudden and familiar push. “Let’s play, indeed.”   

CXI.

“—bitch keeps hitting her stick against my ankles—”

“Guys…”

“—and that ref with the beard is such an asshole—”

“ _Guys_.”

“—why is it so fucking hot, I swear I’m going to die of dehydration—”

“ _Hey_!”

“—if I even so much as see her face in front of my goal again I will personally drag her across the field by her bangs and slam her teeth out of her mouth against the goddamn goal post _—_ ”

As she says it, Dinah throws her water bottle so hard against the locker room wall that it splashes open, spilling water everywhere, finally shocking everyone into some sort of silence. She glares at the mess of water on the bench. “Sorry. That bitch with the bangs is getting on my nerves.”

“ _Guys_ ,” you say quickly, pushing through now that you might actually get your teammates attention. “Guys – sit down and listen up. Just… settle down for a second, ok? Dinah, _sit down_.”

It takes a couple more moments of commotion but then finally everyone is sitting down and staring up at you. All these angry, sweaty faces. Hands clenched tight around hockey sticks. It’s half-time; the heat of the game. You’ve only got seven minutes, but they’re ready to listen.

You take a deep breath. “All right. So, I know things are not exactly going… as planned.”

Cameron scoffs. “That’s ‘cause UCSD is playing fucking dirty.”

You bite down on your lip, eyes flicking up to the bloody cut in her forehead. She’s not the only one; almost all your teammates are sporting bruises and cuts that weren’t there before; jerseys and shorts disheveled, muscles aching, anger high to the surface, all as a result of a seemingly endless stream of foul moves by your opponents.

“I know.” You hand Cameron your water bottle. “Here, clean that cut. We need you in the second half.” She mumbles a faint _thanks_ as you turn back to the rest of your team. “Ok, you’re right, they’re not playing fair. None of it’s fair. The refs suck and the weather is awful and we’re two points behind even though we’re playing so much better than them and the scouts are barely paying attention and it seems like we just can’t catch a break. I know.”

Your words echo a little in the space between all of you.

Something sudden and harsh rushes through your body as you watch your team slump back against the walls, angry and tired and frustrated. Dinah is staring ahead, looking angrier than you’ve ever seen her. Normani has doubled over, leaning on her knees, trying to control her breathing and looking more worn-out than ever. Ally is trying to listen to you, to give you a supportive smile, but it looks all wrong, all shaky and nervous and sad. Ava and Cameron and Jessa… everyone is pulsing with disappointment and exhaustion and pain – and Lauren—

Your gaze gets stuck on the green of her eyes and it shoots through your entire body with something so heavy that it feels like a punch in the chest.

This is your team. These are your _people_ – your classmates, your friends, the girl you’re so in love with.

(This is the game you’re so in love with.)

You swallow hard. Take a step forward. It’s your job to motivate them and you’re going to do it properly. “All right.” Another deep breath. “All right, listen up. Here’s what we’re going to do.”

With shaky fingers you start drawing out the new game plan.

Different strategies. “We’re going to increase the pressure even more. Jess, Ava, you’re going to push forward. We’re not letting them get past us anymore. Find the length along the sidelines.” Different intentions. “I want you to forget about being nice. If they want to play us hard, they’re going to get it right back.” Different positions. “Laur?” She looks up at you and your heart thuds a little wilder. “You ready to play center forward?”

The smile she gives you sparks your motivation harder than anything else.

“It’s not over until we say it’s over,” you say, the words falling off your lips without any sort hesitation. The nerves and uncertainty you were feeling earlier today have been replaced with something else entirely. “We are going to fight for it until the very last minute. Not because of the scouts. Not because of the damn Spring selection. We’re going back out there in a minute and play this game because we’re good at it and because we love it and because we’ve been doing this together for months and I’m not giving up on that.”

Normani gives you half a smile and it’s all you need. “We didn’t train our asses off every single day for the past months to give up on it now. We didn’t miss out on all those parties or risked failing our courses to give up on it now.” Your voice goes a little rough, but you keep talking. “We didn’t have all those arguments with each other to give up on it now. We didn’t work through all our frustrations or push through all injuries – strained ankles and skinned knees and fucking concussions – to give up on it now. It’s not going to happen. It’s not how I’m going to let today happen—”

Your breath catches harshly in the back of your throat.

“Camz.”

Lauren’s voice is soft.

You turn around, finding her eyes. Something settles in the center of your chest. Here, right in the middle of the sweaty locker room, you finally feel sure. You were planning to wait until after the game, but it’s really only another breath. “I have to tell you guys something.”

There’s half a moment of tension, and then Dinah scoffs and laughs and snaps it.

“We already know you’re gay.”

It hits you square in the center of your chest. “ _Dinah_ —”

She grins, glancing between you and Lauren. “I’m just saying, if this is the way y’all are trying to break the news that you went from banging each other on top of our hockey bags to disgustingly coupling up officially, you’re so late to the party. Everyone already knows.”  

You’re blushing hard but at the same time you can’t stop your smile. “That’s not – that’s not what I’m trying to say.”

Everyone is sort of laughing, grinning at Dinah or wiggling their eyebrows at you or Lauren, who is trying to keep her cool but failing miserably, and your chest feels a little lighter, so right in the middle of all of it, you take a breath and then just say it. “This is my last game as captain.”

Your whole team falls silent instantly.

“What?” Ally breathes out, eyes suddenly wide. “Mila, are you serious?”

You slowly nod. “Yeah, I’m serious.”

There’s another moment of silence and then everyone sort of explodes at the same time and it becomes too difficult to distinguish any full sentences in the chorus of _why_ and _what is going on_ and _what are you going to do_ and _what are we going to do_ and _why would you want to do that_.

“But you love hockey!” Normani eventually cuts through.

You nod. “Yeah, that’s—” You bite your lip. “That’s why I’m doing it.”

Her eyes narrow slightly and you can feel the pressure of having to explain everything heavy on your chest. You can’t really meet anyone’s eyes, but you feel like you have to give them something to back up your words, so you try anyway.

“You know this feeling…” you start, “… when you really love something you just want to busy yourself with it all the time? It’s interesting and it’s easy and you’re good at it, and even when you’re not doing it, you are wishing you could be doing it? Every minute of every day you’re thinking about it, and then your whole life starts to revolve around practice and games and goals – and at some point you sort of forget there was ever anything else to focus on?” Your exhale is harsh and sharp. “That’s field hockey for me. For as long as I can remember I’ve only ever cared about that. But the thing is… there is so much more I care about.” It feels like a breath broken free from your lungs. “There is so much more for me to figure out that has nothing to do with running around on a pitch. Things that interest me and things I want to do and people that I want to spend more time with, quality time, not just in-between practice sessions. I love hockey, I really do – but I don’t want it to be my entire world anymore.”

There’s a collective pulse in the locker room as your teammates take in your words, shifting forward in their seats, quietly nodding or mumbling some sort of agreement or understanding.

When you catch Ally’s gaze, you can see tears in her eyes.

It rips right through you. “Ally…”

She doesn’t say anything. Just stands up and walks forward and wraps her arms around your shoulders, pulling you close. It’s not even been a second before Normani gets to her feet as well and wraps her arms around the both of you. Then Dinah follows and then Lauren follows and before you know it your entire team is hugging you and it’s like something is finally falling loose inside your chest as the tension releases all at once. You didn’t know what you’d been expecting. Anger, maybe. No one understanding. Anything but this. 

“I don’t want to lose this game,” you say, breaking away from the group hug to look your teammates in the eyes. “If this is my last game as captain, I want to fucking win it. I want to win it with you guys.”

The looks you get in return make you feel like you’ve never been more ready to do something in your entire life. 

“What’s going to happen next semester, though?” Ava says. “Who’s going to coach us?”

You catch Lauren’s eyes, a grin playing at the corner of your mouth as you say, “I’m sure captain Jauregui has got all sorts of ideas to make your lives a little bit more miserable…”

CXII.

Mia Anderson tackles Lauren to the ground not even five minutes into the second half and the ref doesn’t so much as glance in their direction. Instead of giving Lauren a free hit, he issues a two-minute time-out on request of UCSD’s coach, even though the game has barely started again.   

You feel your anger flare up like a tornado.

“Jesus Christ,” Lauren scoffs as you run over to her. “Who the fuck does this chick think she is, anyway?”

“Mia Anderson,” you say without thinking about it, somehow missing the rhetoric tone.

Lauren frowns. Then her eyes go wide. “Wait – _Mia Anderson_? _The_ Mia Anderson? From your field hockey summer camp?”

“The one and only.”

Lauren’s nearly chokes on the air. “That’s why she was talking to you before the game. That’s why she was hugging you. That’s why she—” Her eyes flash. “That fucking bitch.”

Despite your anger, you can’t stop yourself. “You jealous, Laur?”

“Are you kidding me?” Lauren bites out. “Of her? She can’t even make one proper pass without injuring someone in the process, she’s looks like she’s fourteen years old and she’s not even pretty. I’m not jealous. So what that she kissed you once. Like I even care.”

You have to bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing because she cares _so much_.

“Hm,” you mumble, leaning into her a little bit. “You’re hot when you’re angry.”

She blushes a little, then abruptly leans forward and kisses you hard, before breathing against your lips, “You’re my girlfriend…”

It burns right through you. All the scouts are here, and all your teammates and your _dad,_ and she just _kisses_ you, right in front of everyone, like they’re not even there. It might be completely and totally unprofessional and inappropriate but it still sets your chest on fire.

Lauren grins at your flustered face, before running off when the ref blows his whistle again. Clearly jealously works as a catalyst for determination, because she scores a goal not even a full minute later, and then another one ten minutes later, finally tying the score.

Still, it’s rough.

UCSD scores again, once more taking the lead. You clench your hands tight around your stick, feeling the frustration rattle through you. It’s unfair. They’re playing _so_ unfair and you feel like you’re about to explode. This is your final game as captain. Time is ticking away quickly. Surely, there must be a way to make things better. Surely, there must be a way to work through their defense, past their dirty tricks and mind games. Surely—

Normani’s goal is so quick that you almost miss it.

The rush of relief is so intense that you can barely contain yourself. The score is even again. The score is even and you’ve got about six minutes left. You’ve got six more minutes to make it out of this game without having to go into shoot-outs. Six more minutes to win it.

It’s as if every single person on the field suddenly realizes what’s at stake. As the minutes pass, the tension gets nearly unbearable. After yet another missed shot on goal, you run past the sidelines, back towards your position, quickly glancing at the crowd, when suddenly you catch sight of your dad.

He’s in the one of the middle rows. His eyes are slightly narrowed, his face in concentration – tense and attentive, almost as if he’s playing the game too.

_Almost as if he’s playing the game too._

Your dad is the best field hockey player you know. He’s always been your one and only point of reference. When you were a kid all you ever wanted to do was watch old tapes from his games to see which moves you could copy, to see what your dad would do in certain situations. His every shot was surprising. He never did what was expected of him. Surely, there must be a way to—

It hits you so clearly that you almost double over.

You know exactly what your dad would do. You know exactly what your dad would to because he’s been trying to teach it to you for years.

_If they think you’re going left, go right. If they think you’re going to pass, keep the ball. Come on. Listen to me, Camila, this is important. If they think you won’t shoot, by all means, shoot._

“I’m going inside,” you tell Lauren as she passes by you.

Her eyes go wide. “Martin’s not going to like that.”

You clench your hands around your stick. It’s _your_ game. This is what you know. What you are good at. What you love. “Martin’s not on the field right now. We are.”

You only catch the flash of Lauren’s smile, before you have to sprint forward to be able to catch Jessa’s pass. It’s a perfect shot, right along the sidelines, just like you instructed her to.

_If they think you will play the lines, bring the ball inside._

The UCSD defender is right in front of you. With a quick feint, you push past her, bringing the ball forward right through the middle of the field and into the D. It only takes you a couple more strides, a second long battle with one of the UCSD girls, and one shot, hard and clear—

As the screams of your teammates fill your ears, you catch sight of your dad’s smile. After that, everything blurs.

CXIII.

Your dad’s arms are strong and tight around your shoulders. He’s pulling you as close as he can, telling you over and over how proud he is of you.

“That final goal was incredible,” he says, giving you his widest smile.  

You’re beaming so hard that you feel like you’re going to explode out of your skin. “If they think you will play the lines, bring the ball inside.”

He grins. “That’s my girl.”

Something tightens in your chest at the way he’s looking at you. “Dad – I have to tell you something.”

At once, his expression shifts. “Everything all right?”

“Yeah,” you mumble, sounding a little breathless. “Yeah, I’m good. I just – I want to talk to you about something.” For a second you feel too nervous to do it, but then you think of your father’s advice – of going against what’s expected of you – and before you can stop yourself, you blurt it all out.

You tell him everything. You tell him about wanting to quit field hockey, but feeling like you’d miss it too much. About your conversations with Coach Martin, discussing the possibilities. About going back to just playing on the team instead of being captain. About switching your major from International Relations to Marine Biology. About wanting to make your own choices. Do things for yourself.  

Your dad is silent throughout everything. His expression is unreadable, a slight tremble in his lip or a twitch of his eye as the only signs he’s paying attention to what you’re saying. When you’re finally done, you prepare yourself for the worst.

“Those goals Lauren made were very impressive.”

You’re not expecting your dad to switch the subject. You blink hard. “Uh – yes. Yes, they were.”

He nods. “Being captain will surely help with her keeping her scholarship, right?”

You’re too confused to do anything other than nod.

A hint of a smile plays at the corner of your father’s mouth. “Well, I think she deserves it.”

“I’m not – really following…” you mumble, frowning. “You’re – what are you saying?”

The smile pushes through. “She’s a lovely girl, mija. She knows what’s important.”

“Yes, but I – I still don’t know what you mean.”

Your father pulls you closer. “I’ve done a lot of thinking about this. First, I wasn’t all too enthusiastic about the changes, about watching you lose your concentration and your focus on hockey, but now…” He takes a breath. “I can see how much you’ve grown and how your life has gotten… richer – and, you deserve that, mija. You both deserve that.” He strokes his fingers over your cheek. “I’ve always wanted to see you play field hockey is because it used to make you smile so much, and then it didn’t anymore, not as much as before. And ever since, I’ve been realizing that it’s not about field hockey. It’s always been about seeing you smile.”

You bite your lip, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. “Papa…”

Your dad smiles. “As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”

It feels better than the goal. So much better than the goal.  

CXIV.

You’re one of the last people out of the locker room and when you find her, the pitch is already empty. She’s waiting for you to walk to the bus together, balancing one of the forgotten hockey balls on the inside of her stick. She hasn’t noticed you yet. 

“Jauregui.”

She spins around. Drops the ball instantly. Smiles and blushes. “Cabello.”

You walk closer, closing the space between you. “So, you’re the new UCLA field hockey captain, huh? I must say, I’ve heard a lot of things about you.”

“Really?” Her smile is so smug you want to kiss it right off her face. “I haven’t heard a single thing about you.”  

Your laugh breaks free from your throat. “I can’t believe that was the first thing I ever said to you.”

Lauren grins. “Well, you were a little bit more difficult back then. Guess I made you soft.”

You scoff. “I’m not soft.”

Lauren leans forward, pulls on your hips. “Baby, you’re so soft…”

She brushes her mouth over yours and smiles when you sigh into the kiss. When she pulls away again, there’s a moment in which all you do is look at each other, and then Lauren tries to flick the hockey ball up again, but failing so hard that she drops her stick.

You can’t help your smile. “Is that supposed to impress me or something? You look like you’ve got no idea what you’re doing.”

Lauren kinks her eyebrow up at you. “Oh, I know exactly what I’m doing.”

“Yeah?” You lean closer into her, pushing your fingers up under the hem of her shirt. “Because it seems like I will need to coach you in being captain.” You press your lips against her neck. “We probably need to spend a lot of hours together, actually…” Lauren hums as you suck a little harder at her skin. “…so I can give you some pointers.”

Lauren laughs against your temple. “I don’t need any pointers.”

You pull back. “Really? Maybe you should show me what you got, then. You know, if you really want to _impress_ me…”

She knows exactly what you mean. With a grin she pulls away from you, picks up her hockey stick, kicks the ball just over the sideline and narrows her eyes at the goal, scaling the distance. It’s so much further than you would ever be able to make.

The first time you ever saw her, she scored a goal from the far end of the field – making the ball soar through the air, right past you, into the left corner of the net – as if it was nothing.

Lauren smiles at you, winks, mouths _I love you_ —

—and then takes the shot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> It’s the end. I can’t believe I wrote this entire thing. I can’t believe you read this entire thing! Thank you so much for all the support! I can’t even express in words how much it has meant to me to read your comments and to hear your thoughts. These last couple of months have been very rough on me and I know I haven't been very responsive. Sometimes I did not feel like writing at all, but reading your comments has always been extremely helpful, though, so thank you for that. 
> 
> Honestly, thanks for sticking with me through the craziness that was this fic… It was only supposed to be about 7 chapters, haha! I hope the last chapter didn’t disappoint. Y’all didn’t really think Camz was actually going to quit hockey, did ya? :) Sorry about all the explicit scenes. Sorry about all the drama. Sorry about all the pining. Sorry about accidentally naming Cameron “Cameron” which was such a classic mistake on my part that I can barely even talk about it. (Give it up for that girl, though! If there’s one character who got screwed over way more than she deserved, it’s her. Such a good sport).
> 
> This is the first multi-chapter story that I’ve ever finished in my life and I really couldn’t have done it without your support.
> 
> Now, for a bit of shameless self-promotion… Some of you have been asking if I write any other things besides fanfiction. I do. It’s way more personal and way more honest and way more vulnerable, so if that’s not really your thing, feel free to ignore this paragraph. If you do think you’d want to read my thoughts/poetry/essays/journal stuff, you can find me on letterstothenight.tumblr.com 
> 
> Side note: I have never used Tumblr in my life. I only created this last night and it’s all very new to me, so please ignore the ugliness/inadequacy of my blog. I’ll try to make it better. Also, as I mentioned before, I’m going through a lot of things right now. On the downside that means I’m not sure when I’ll be able to update ‘a sum of small things’. I really am sorry about that. I know how much you're all waiting for an update. I am sorry. On the upside, I will likely write a lot on my Tumblr because writing is the only way I can process my emotions, so there you go. 
> 
> I can’t believe I’m saying goodbye to this story. I love you all more than you think. For now, and for all the days after, I hope you have a great day, wherever you are in the world!
> 
> —Blake


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